


The Bastard and the Lady

by Mischieff



Series: The Bastard and the Lady [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 311,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28683600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischieff/pseuds/Mischieff
Summary: Kathryn Cousland had always wanted to do something important with her life. The Blight was to be her chance to prove she was more than a pretty face. But after the attack on her home, she was left with only a promise to keep, a promise to fight the Blight, end the civil war and gain vengeance for her family. Despite all she had lost and suffered, the emptiness and numbness she felt, she found herself drawn to a fellow warden, drawn in ways she didn't understand and that frightened her. She couldn't fall in love, not now, not with so much at stake.Alistair was content to devote his life to protecting Ferelden, saving the world so that others could have the things he knew he never would. However, this new recruit caused feelings in him he hadn't thought possible. But it couldn't be love, could it? Besides why would she be interested in him? No, with her in charge and a Blight to stop, he'd best keep those feelings to himself. Then again, could he really live with never knowing if there was a chance she might feel the same? The fate of Ferelden might turn on the answer.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age)
Series: The Bastard and the Lady [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102418
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Part I: Chapters 1 through 27

**Author's Note:**

> This story was told in a serial format with a new chapter being posted once a week from November 11, 2013 to May 27, 2015.

Chapter 1: The Tournament 

Alistair laid on his bunk in the templar barracks, following the cracks in the ceiling as he had done for countless nights since coming here. The barracks were empty except for him. Classes, training, sparring practice, had all been canceled for the Warden Commander of Ferelden had come to choose a recruit from among the templars to join the Grey Wardens and a tournament was being held to display the best that the Chantry had to offer. 

Templars from all over Ferelden had come including probably the three best warriors the Chantry had. Ser Kalvin of Denerim, Ser Eryhn, a woman from Highever, and Ser Talrew of Lothering. Any templar that wished to could compete, but initiates had to be granted permission from Knight-Commader Glavin. Several had asked and been permitted to compete. Alistair had asked, nearly begged to be allowed to enter the tournament but his request had been flatly denied. 

He had been so angry, furious in fact, which in retrospect hadn't helped his cause any. He wanted so badly to compete, wanted to be given at least the chance to be recruited and get out of this place, wanted to do anything but be a templar. And, well... saving the world from darkspawn sounded like a pretty good option. Besides becoming a Grey Warden was a great honor. It wasn't that he wasn't good enough to compete at that that level. He was. He knew that and so did the Knight-Commander. He was the best warrior of all the initiates and he wasn't being allowed to compete. Why? Because he wanted to, that's why. 

It was a punishment, and he knew it. The Knight-Commander had found something he wanted, something he cared about, something to take away from him. Alistair had gotten used to the frequent corporal punishment and actually liked working in the kitchen. There was nothing they could do or threaten to do to make him submit and behave. They could not send him home in disgrace, he had no home to go to and no family honor to uphold. He was a trouble maker, willful, obstinate and not worthy of being a templar but he was the best they had. He wanted out so they were going to make sure he stayed. If he had been content here, a good initiate who never caused trouble, they would let him go with a happy heart but now they held on to him with spite. He tried to explain the irony of what they were doing but they didn't care. This was payback for years of disobedience and disrespect. It was vengeful and petty and there wasn't anything he could do about it. 

He heard the horn, the tournament was about to start. He should stay here, refused to be a part of it, show they hadn't beaten him but they had and they all knew it. And he did want to see the matches. He begrudeningly got up and made his way to the courtyard. 

He walked around watching the fights. He fought the rising anger at seeing those fight he knew he could best. He found where the knights were competing but he had gotten there too late to get close enough to see them. Then he thought he heard his name called. He looked around and saw the Knight-Commander motioning for him to approach. Fantastic! he thought. They weren't even going to let him watch. 

Next to the Knight-Commander was a man, dark skinned, black hair, Rivani. He had a calm demeanor, serious, but kind too somehow. That must be the Grey Warden, he thought. Great. He gets called out in front of the Warden Commander of Ferelden, destroying any small chance he had of ever being recruited. This day just couldn't get any better. 

The Knight-Commander looked as though he had taken a bite of spoiled meat. He sighed and said "The Warden Commander wants to see you fight. Go get your gear and try not to embarrass all of us." At least, that's what Alistair thought he said, but it was so incredible that he really didn't believe it. Alistair looked back and forth between the two men. The Warden Commander smiled and nodded to him. 

Alistair turned and ran out of the courtyard and over several people on his way back to the barracks. He had to get his gear before the Knight-Commander changed his mind. He charged through the doors, running through the halls back to the armory. He grabbed his set of medium grade splintmail. It was only grey iron and he was going to be at a distinct disadvantage since most of the templars fought in their plate armor and the initiates had been given heavy armor to compete in. But he'd just have to be better. He buckled himself into the armor, grabbed a wooden templar kite shield and a simple iron sword and ran back to the courtyard. 

He forced his way through the crowd of onlookers and combatants to the templar in charge of the matches. "I get to fight!" He blurted out. The templar looked at him suspiciously. "Knight-Commander said so. See look." He pointed to where the Knight-Commander sat with the Grey Warden who nodded to the templar. Alistair heard protests from some of the others that he had already missed the first round and shouldn't be allowed to enter the competition. But he didn't care, this was his chance and he didn't intend to waste it. The templar looked over the list of the remaining fighters and pointed to one of the areas designed for the matches. 

Rules made clear: This was a skill contest. The match was over when either one party conceded or was dealt what in the judges' opinion would be a killing blow. His first match would be against another initiate, the fourth son of a minor noble in the bannorn. At least it's better than being a bastard, he was wont to say. We'll see, Alistair thought, this isn't sparring practice. Alistair blocked several showy blows, let his opponent feel good about pummeling him and then struck quickly and with force at the first opportunity. The judges reluctantly called the match. The other initiate protested but all three judges agreed. Alistair extended his hand but the initiate refused it. Alistair had expected as much and for the most part didn't care. He faked devastation at the slight. There were chuckles from the crowd. Alistair looked up to see if the Grey Warden had seen his victory and to his great surprise, he had. 

The next match was against a templar in full massive armor, who seemed almost insulted that he was being asked to fight an initiate. Alistair was patient and good at his chosen discipline. He blocked the blows he had to and avoided those he could. He was quicker in the lighter armor and would tire less easily. He could afford to wait and let the templar wear himself out, let him get frustrated by his lack of success, let him seethe at the indignity of not being able to dispatch such an unworthy opponent. Alistair could play the waiting game, watch... and wait... for the right... opportunity and then... strike. Alistair swung his sword, just hard enough to get his attention and then bashed him with the shield, knocking him back. Before the templar could recover his footing, Alistair followed it up with another bash. Then he changed targets and went after the templar’s sword. A stunning blow to the templar's wrist and he dropped it. The templar tried to retreat, to regroup and recover his weapon but Alistair in the lighter armor was too quick. Another blow brought him to his knees. The match was called. There was some light applause and again he extended his hand but the templar refused. Alistair shrugged to the crowd and then, while trying not to be obvious about it, checked to see if the Grey Warden was still watching him and to his surprise, he was. 

The next match was another templar. This one fought with patience and skill. Alistair finally gained an edge and knocked the templar to his back, with his sword at his throat the match was called. Alistair again extended his hand and this time the templar took it. Alistair helped him to his feet."Good match. Best one I've had today, obviously." He smiled. 

Alistair responded. "I got lucky." 

"No," the templar said shaking his head. "I am man enough to admit when I have been bested by my betters. You are very good. Good luck to you." 

Alistair fought several more matches and won them all and qualified to advanced to the next round. He was the only initiate still in the competition. Over and over and match after match, he bested each opponent. Finally there were only four combatants left: Ser Kalvin of Denerim, Ser Eryhn of Highever, Ser Talrow of Lothering and him. 

His first match of the final round was with Ser Kalvin. He tried to keep up with the flurry of strikes, many he blocked, several to the great surprise of Ser Kalvin but there were too many and too fast. He realized he couldn't beat him but was determined to last as long as possible. Finally he felt the knight's blade at his throat and the match was called. He extended his hand to Alistair who shook it. "Well fought." he said. 

"Thank you." Alistair responded. 

"You're good, very good. It was an honor." He said. 

"Yes, thank you, you too. I mean it was an honor for me as well." The knight smiled and walked away. 

His next match was with Ser Eryhn. Alistair knew that he had to win at least one match to even be considered for recruitment but given the competition that seemed highly unlikely. As the match began, he knew immediately he was outmatched but wanted to make a good showing. He tried attack after attack but couldn't get any blow to land. He fell back into a defensive stance and waited for an opening that never came. After several tries, he was finally knocked back and the match called. She walked over to him as he regained his footing. She extended her hand and he shook it. "Quite a match there. I'm impressed and I don't say that often." 

"Thank you." He replied. 

"You have talent and skill and the intelligence to use both. Most any idiot can pick up a sword and a shield and figure out how to block with the one and strike with the other, but true mastery of the discipline takes, talent, study, time and hard work. You show a great deal of potential, keep working at it. Maker watch over you." She smiled and walked away. 

The last match was with Ser Talrow of Lothering. It was a grueling battle of attrition that he knew he couldn't win. Finally, exhausted, he took one more blow than he was able and collapsed to the ground. The match was called. He had lost the three final matches and no doubt any chance he had at being recruited. He tried to get up but couldn't. "Stay down." He heard the knight say. "Take deep, slow breaths. Don't try to stand ‘till breathing is normal and your vision clears." Alistair took several deep breaths and then as he tried to stand the knight picked him up from under his arms and raised him to his feet. 

"Good match. I was almost worried." The knight smiled. "What's your name again? Alastin?" 

"Alistiar" Alistair was finally able to say. 

"I'll remember that, no doubt I'll hear it again someday. Maker guide your steps, lad." He said. 

Alistair’s whole body hurt. He stiffly walked over to the edge of the courtyard and sat down and then fell back upon the ground. Soon the Knight-Commander would announce the winner and who the recruit would be. He knew it was useless but he prayed anyway. As hard as he ever had in his life. He doubted the Maker would answer such a prayer but he prayed anyway. 

He opened his eyes and saw the Knight-Commander and the Grey Warden approach and slowly got to his feet. 

"Here is your recruit." the Knight-Commander said with obvious distaste. 

Alistair looked to him and then to the Grey Warden and blurted out "But I didn't win the tournament!" 

The Grey Warden said "I did not ask for the tournament, nor did I offer recruitment as its prize. I came here seeking a warrior of character and I believe I have found him" 

Alistair was taken back and stood there with his mouth hanging open. 'Warrior of character' that sounded a lot better than 'troublemaker with willful streak' that's for sure. Finally the Grey Warden said "Why don't you go collect your things. We leave immediately." Alistair nodded and as quickly as he was able made his way to the barracks. 

He went to his bunk. He looked through his things. There was so little there, few pairs of socks and small clothes, couple change of clothes. He didn't even really want to risk taking the time to change. Figured if they really wanted the old rusty splintmail and now cracked shield he would let them have them and walk out of this place naked. He put his hand under the pillow and pulled out a book he had long ago borrowed from the monastery's library Tales of Calenhad. He put it on the bed and then took off his initiate's amulet and threw it next to it. He grabbed his pack and made his way to the front doors. 

As he approached he heard voices talking and whoever they were, they were not happy. It was the Grey Warden and another voice, female... the Grand Cleric... Alistair felt his heart sink. He turned the corner and saw the Grey Warden standing facing the Grand Cleric who had not only a few templars behind her but several members of the Denerim city guard. This was not good. 

He stepped up and heard the Grey Warden say, "I do not see the problem. I requested permission to choose a recruit from among the ranks of the templars. The tournament was held for that purpose." 

"But you were not given permission to choose an initiate." she said. Oh no, Alistair couldn't believe it. She wasn't going to stop him, not now. 

"If that was an issue why were other initiates allowed to compete?" He asked. 

The Grand Cleric had no answer and said "He was not to be allowed to compete." 

"Why? It would seem that since he made it to the final round he had more than enough skill and talent." He stopped letting the Grand Cleric know that he knew she had no answer, or at least no answer she wanted to give. 

"You would interfere with a templar's duty to the Maker, to protect his world from magic." The Grand Cleric said trying to change the focus of the conversation. 

"The duty of the Grey Wardens is the greatest in the Maker's world for if we fail it will not matter if magic is unsanctioned or not for the world itself will fall. When a Blight comes, will the templars be willing to stand against the might of a darkspawn hoard and fight an archdemon. For if they wish to take on that responsibility I will gladly retire today." 

"There has not been a Blight in over 400 years." The Grand Cleric said. 

"So that means there will not be another one?” Duncan said. “For that is the same thing that was said after the First Blight, the Second Blight and the Third Blight, but each time another came, and each time only the Grey Wardens stood against it." 

The Grand Cleric looked to Alistair and said "I will not allow his recruitment." Alistair was crushed. He started to speak, to beg if he had to, but the Grey Warden grabbed his arm. "Then you leave me no choice." Duncan said. "I will conscript him." 

Her eyes widened. "What?" 

"I have the right given to the Grey Wardens by King Maric to conscript anyone I choose into the Grey Wardens." Alistair realized that the Grey Warden had pulled rank on the Grank Cleric. There was nothing more respected in Ferelden than the name of the king who had freed it from the Orleasians. He could see the soldiers waiver, as willing as they had been to obey the word of the Grand Cleric, they may not be so willing to go against the will of the king. 

"You would... risk... do that." She said obviously surprised. 

"That I take such a drastic measure should prove to you how much I believe that he will serve the Maker better as a Grey Warden than a templar." Alistair could tell she was fuming. She decided to change tactics and turned her attention to him. 

"Alistair, is this what you truly wish?" She said. 

Duncan spoke up "It does not matter what he wishes. I have conscripted him. He has no choice in the matter." Alistair knew that the Grey Warden was taking the fight and the responsibility on himself. He knew that Alistair wanted to leave, wanted to be recruited. He had faced and stood up to the Grand Cleric, risked her wrath to help him. No one had ever done anything like that for him... ever. 

The Grand Cleric knew she had lost and didn't like it but she had no choice. If the Warden Commander was willing to push the issue she knew that Cailan would uphold the order of his father. She addressed Alistair. "If you are to go, I must ask one thing of you. You are not yet a templar, you have not yet taken your final vows. One of those vows is an oath to the Maker that you will never reveal templar secrets to anyone. It is vital to the security and safety of all templars that these secrets are not revealed. So I must ask that you give me your word, your solemn promise before the Maker that you will never reveal any templar secrets to anyone... not even to the Grey Wardens." 

Alistair looked to Duncan, who slightly nodded to him. He looked back to the Grand Cleric and croaked "Yes, I give you my word." 

She looked appeased and said dismissively "Then good luck and Maker watch over you." She walked away. 

"Come." the Grey Warden said. They walked by the guards and out of the chantry's door. "By the way," The Grey Warden said as they stepped into the evening air. "My name is Duncan." 

Chapter 2: The Tavern 

Duncan stepped into the tavern. He was less than a day's journey to Highever castle and could make it by nightfall if he pushed through but he had friends here and wanted to get some information before continuing on. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he heard the voice of the tavern keeper. "Duncan! Maker bless me! Come in! Come in, my friend. Bessie! Look who's come!" 

The tavern keeper was a man in his early fifties. His younger brother had been one of Duncan's first recruits, a brawler and drunk who had accidentally killed a man in a fight. Duncan had conscripted him on the day he was to be hung. He had sworn off drink saying with a smile that after the Joining nothing else could compare. He had become a model Grey Warden leading rescue missions into the deep roads and village defense against darkspawn raids. When he went to his Calling, he took Duncan's hand and thanked him. "I can stand before the Maker without shame." 

His brother had always treated Duncan like family and this small tavern was one of the few places that he felt at home. As an additional benefit, he was a man who liked to talk and knew everyone and everything about everyone. 

"Why, bless me!" said the woman who emerged from the back kitchen. "So good to see you, Duncan. I bet that husband of mine hasn't even offered you a seat yet. Get this man an ale, dear. Now, first things first... are you just passing through or you staying?" 

"I'm going to stay tonight and continue on to Highever castle in the morning." Duncan replied. 

"Wonderful! I have a lamb shank just ready for the roast. You sit down there and we'll take care of you. And you know your coin is no good here." She pointed her finger and looked stern to prove she meant it. Then smiled a warm smile and disappeared back into the kitchen. Her husband placed a dark ale in front of Duncan. He poured another for himself and said. "Well, you heard the woman. Now let us take a seat over there. So, what brings you to out this way? Recruiting?" 

"As always." Duncan said. 

"Found any good ones lately?" The keeper asked as they took their seats. 

"One, who has a lot of potential. He just passed his joining a few months ago. But he needs work." Duncan said thoughtful. 

"Let me guess, a raw boy barely knows the pommel of a sword from the pointy end, reckless and full of himself with fire in his eyes and an nasty disposition." His friend said. 

"No," Duncan smiled. "Just the opposite in fact. He was trained as a templar and they try their best to beat any fire out of you. The fact that he still has as much will as he does, speaks well of him and his spirit. He is good man, good heart in him. His skills and talent as a warrior are impressive. Brave but not reckless at all. He seems to have a natural ability to lead but he lacks any confidence in himself at all. He has never been allowed to make a decision and doesn't know how. He is clever with a tongue as sharp as his sword but he doesn't know when to use it and when not to. And I've seen flashes of a temper that might prove terrible if unleashed. But all that is easily corrected with time. He has shown much improvement since his recruitment. I think he is capable of much." Duncan nodded slightly. 

"You almost sound fond of the boy." The keeper said with a smile. 

Duncan smiled. "You know I'm not supposed to be partial." He took a drink of his ale, then said. "I've been invited to Highever to look at a potential recruit..." 

"Ah... so you come here to get the read on them. What you want to know?" The keeper asked. 

"First, what can you tell me about the Teyrn?" Duncan asked. 

"Much. Most you know but you know the hawk's view I'll give you the mouse's view. He is a good man and a good teyrn. Most here in Highever would follow him off a cliff even more so than..." 

"...the king." Duncan said. 

"Yes. In fact, there was talk when King Maric disappeared that he might be a better choice for king, but nothing came of it. The Teyrn is loyal to crown. He fought in the war, you know. He looks good for age, must be all those toasts to his health. Shrewd, kind, carries himself with quiet confidence and the calm of one who has seen things. You'll like him." He said. 

The keeper took a drink of ale and then continued. "The Teyrna is a good woman, a lady not only by birth but by manner and actions. You question her virtue in any tavern in Highever and you'll likely get a face-full of fist for your words. She is sharp too, not one to back down from a fight or need one to stand up for her. She is devoted to her husband, children and grandchild." 

Duncan looked thoughtful and then asked about the heir. The keeper replied. "Fergus? He is good sort, bright, kind to have a ale with and give you his last silver. He has an Antivan wife and one boy, Oren. So, the succession is secured. Most agree that he'll be a fine Teyrn one day, although not in any hurry. The entire family is very loving and devoted, makes the castle a pleasant place to be." Duncan finished off his ale and before he could set the glass down a young woman appeared with another. "You remember my girl, don't you?" 

"Yes, hello. You have grown, nearly a woman now." Duncan said. She smiled. 

"Hello, ser." She said. 

"Just nearly. Don't tell her I know but she has her eye on that bard that plays here." The keeper said with a wink. 

"Father!" the girl exclaimed and ran off to hide in the kitchen. Duncan had to smile. 

"The lad's been getting up his courage up to ask me. He's a good man, solid even if a bard. She could to worse and he seemed devoted. Can't ask for more than that." He raised his ale and took a drink. "So, who's the candidate?" 

"A Ser Gilmore. The Teyrn suggested him as a possible recruit." Duncan said. 

The keeper looked at Duncan curiously and with a bit of surprise thrown in. He considered for a moment and then said. "Ser Gilmore, he'd be a good choice and definitely worth your time. Let's see... father a minor lord in Bannorn, been a squire since age of about ten, raised with Teyrn's children, nearly part of the family. Good, solid man, highly skilled, youngest knight to serve Highever, brave and true type. He has a quiet demeanor but don't mistake that for reserve or any lack of courage or confidence." He took another drink and considered. "But I find it odd that the Teyrn would suggest him to you as a recruit. As I say he is basically part of the family and to put all that effort into education and training... what's going on, Duncan?" 

Duncan put the glass down on the low table and leaned in. Duncan knew that while the keeper was a man who knew things and liked to talk, he also knew when to hold his tongue and he trusted him. "A Blight has begun." 

"No." He said quietly. "Maker preserve us. When? Where?" 

"We have sensed it for a while now and have been waiting for the hoard to show itself. A few weeks ago, it did... in the wilds. We informed the king and he took us at our word and began to mobilize. All the banns are being called to Ostagar to set up a defense." Duncan said. 

"Yes," the keeper said nodding. "We noticed that the Teyrn had collected the army, upgraded equipment, all that. Arl Howe just arrived too. We thought perhaps a threat of war... Orlais... but that... not this." He sat back and shook his head. "Maker bless and keep you, Duncan." 

Several moments passed as the men were occupied with their ale and their own thoughts. Then the keeper said "Well, I see why the Teyrn would be willing to give up his best knight and I have no doubt that he'll make a fine Grey Warden... but..." 

"But, what?" Duncan said. 

"But... well, if I was the Warden Commander of Ferelden facing a Blight at my very door, there is someone else at Highever castle that I'd take a look at." His friend said. 

"Who? Not Fergus, I can't deprive Highever of its heir, even if I do have the power. It wouldn't be worth the political instability or the ire of the nobility." Duncan said. 

"Oh, no. I didn't mean him at all... I mean the Teyrn's second child... the daughter, Kathryn." He said. 

Duncan sat back surprised. "The daughter." 

"Yes, she is something. Most around here wouldn't mind a bit if she became Teyrn instead of her brother despite being second child and a woman, and that is no cut against him, mind you, but praise of her. She is exceptional, has been since a child. A skilled and talented rogue, fierce, cunning, brave, sensible, wise beyond years with a sharp tongue that she knows how and when to use. Strong willed nearly to point of stubbornness or at least was when a girl, but also kind and generous. If facing a darkspawn horde you could do worse than have her at your back." He said. 

Duncan considered and then said "Given the family's name, I'm surprised she hasn't been married off by now..." Leaving unsaid the question of what was wrong with her. 

"So is the Teyrna, but not her fault, that’s for certain. The Teyrna has been trying to make a match for her for years. There has been a near constant parade of noblemen to Highever but the girl has so far resisted all such attempts.” The keeper took a drink and then continued. “She was raised to be Teyrn, to think for herself, trust her own judgment above all else. She is not one to give respect nor trust easily. She is strong in mind, body and heart and most men can't handle such from a woman. They feel too threatened. They want a proper wife, which she is not capable of. She would make a wonderful wife to the right man, someone who could appreciate her, someone who is as strong as she is, just in a different way. Unfortunately most aren’t. She would marry if the Teyrn insisted, so far he hasn't.” 

Duncan considered. "What would make you think that the Teyrn would be willing to allow his daughter to be recruited?" 

"I don't and he won't." The keeper said sure. "But he isn't the one you need to convince. She is wasting away up there. There is no place for her anymore. She wants to do something more with her life than just be some noble's wife and bear his children. Something like, oh... I do not know... saving the world from a Blight." 

“If she wants it, she will find a way. Perhaps not today, for she will not defy her father but she will find a way." He leaned forward as in confidence. "If I were you, put a word in her ear as soon as possible, even in front of the Teyrn. He will object, of course, but see if she bites and if she does, back off and bide your time." 

"I see. Thank you. I will." Duncan said. 

"But there is one thing I must warn you about her. Something that might cause you trouble, a lot of trouble with the other wardens." The keeper said. 

"Yes." Duncan said concerned. 

"She is beautiful." 

Chapter 3: The Castle 

3.1 Bryce and Eleanor 

Bryce and Eleanor Cousland looked out from the rampart of the castle, watching Fergus and the army till they were well out of sight. 

"I fear for him... for you... for Kathryn... for all of us... for all Ferelden..." She said. 

"Please, do not worry, love..." Bryce began. 

"Do not tell me that everything will be alright!" She nearly shouted. "That both of you will be fine and that there is nothing to worry about!" 

"I wasn't going to." He admitted. "I was going to say that worry causes wrinkles. That should get you to stop." Eleanor laughed in spite of herself. Bryce put a protective arm around her. She took his hand and rested her head on his shoulder. They continued to look after where the last of the army had disappeared. 

"When?" she asked quietly. 

"Howe's army should arrive by morning and we will leave then." He said quietly. 

"Good thing we have already said our good-bye's then." She said. "Kathryn is not happy about being left behind." 

"I know. She would be a great help too. But I can't risk both of them. A Blight, even a large darkspawn raid, if that is all this is, is not to be taken lightly. If the worst should happen, one of them needs to survive." He said. 

"And Fergus can't stay behind because he is the heir and a man and if she went and he didn't..." her voice drifted off. "She is interested in joining the Grey Wardens." 

"I know. I saw it in her eyes." He let out a deep sigh. "If the hoard is not defeated in the south..." 

"No, Bryce, you cannot allow it. I won't allow it." She said with force. 

"She may not give us the option." He said. 

"She will not defy you. You must not..." She started. 

"Eleanor, she has to do something." He said. 

"And what is wrong with getting married, having children, raising a family?" She asked. 

"Nothing, if that is what you want, but she wants something else." He said. 

"You raised her to be too independent, too strong, too willful..." She said. 

"No, that is her nature, her disposition and you know it." He said. Eleanor looked away. "I raised her to be a teryn. She was my daughter. I had to. It was my responsibility. If something had or, Maker forbid, does happen to Fergus, she is in line to the rule of Highever. Should I have put her into that position unprepared? Put Highever into the hands of an untrained girl raised to serve her husband tea?" 

"No, of course not." Eleanor said. "I just... hate to see her alone." 

"There is someone out there for her, someone who respects and loves her for the strength she has, someone she can respect and love." Bryce said with more confidence than he felt on the subject. 

"Whether she ever finds them is another story." She said sadly. She turned to Bryce placing a hand on his chest. "We were so lucky to have been matched as we were. I never realized how lucky till recently, till trying to find a match for her, how rare a thing we have. I think that she wants that too. I thought it would be easy to find for her but it isn't, is it?" 

"No, it isn't." He said. 

She smiled and said "I still remember my parents telling me I was to marry 'Bryce Cousland'. My sister and I imagined all sort of ways for me to get out of it. Everything from faking the plague, to filling the hall with stink bombs." 

"All you would have had to do is spoil the drink. You can't have a wedding in Ferelden without ale." He said. 

"I'll remember that one." She said. "But as it turned out not necessary. I saw you in the hall that night and thought, 'There is a man I could marry, bear his children and be happy with.' and then to be introduced to you and find that you were my betrothed!" 

"I remember," he said with a laugh. "You nearly shouted 'You're Bryce Cousland!' I thought you must be very disappointed, that perhaps my mother had oversold my virtues to you." 

"No, quite the opposite. I was thrilled and have been every day since." She said. 

"I remember seeing you for the first time too. You so struck me." He said remembering. 

"With my great beauty, no doubt." She said. 

"No, that wasn't it." He said considering. "Not that you weren't, but that wasn't what I first noticed." 

"Then what?" She asked. 

"Your manner, the air about you. You stood there, with such presence, like you were ready to take on the world. I thought there is a woman to go forth into life with, that is the type you want at your side." He said. 

"Oh, Bryce." She said warmly. 

"That and the fact that the bodice on your dress was about a size too small." He said remembering. 

"Bryce! I can't believe you. You were betrothed!" She said in horror. 

"But to you." He pleaded. 

"You did not know that." She said. 

"I figured that was the point of it, to show off your... features." He said. 

"No, the dress was made special and I had... grown since the last fitting. You are terrible." She said with a smile. He took her into his arms. After a moment she said. "I just want them to be as happy as we have been." 

"I know, my love, but we cannot live her life for her. She is old enough and sensible enough to make her own choices, and we must respect them.” He said. “But it does no use to think on such things now. Much may or may not happen before then." 

3.2 Kathryn and Drake 

Kathryn closed the door behind her. She was being left behind, in this as in all, it seemed. It truly wasn't fair or right or make any sense at all. If anyone should be going it should be her. Father was Teryn of Highever with a wife and children. Fergus had a wife and child. She had... no one, nothing... well, except Drake. She looked up to see him pull a lamb bone out from under her bed. 

"What is that?" She asked him. He looked up to her and barked a happy bark. "Did you steal that from the larder?" He cocked his head to the side and gave a hurt whine. "Did Nan give it to you?" Another happy bark. "It is a good thing that she dislikes you so much or she'd have you fattened up like a cow." He gave another happy bark and began to attack his treasure. 

They had shared this room for over three years. One of the mabaris in the castle's kennel was having a litter. Mabaris have litters only once every two to three years and those litters contain three or four pups. Small, true, but the survival rate is very high unless there is a fifth puppy, which nearly always dies. As there was in this case and as with every instance of a five pup litter, the last one was a runt. This one worse than most. Not even half the size of the others. His back legs were shriveled and tucked up under him. 

"Nothing to do for him." The kennel master said indicating the runt. 

"What do you mean? Father, what does he mean?" She asked already knowing the answer. 

"Pup, with four healthy puppies, the bitch won't have enough milk for him. He will die." He said. 

"But someone could feed him." She pleaded. 

"For what purpose?" he asked. "He is crippled. He will never be able to walk and is of no use. This way is better." 

"What way? To kill him. But he has just been born. You cannot condemn him so quickly, before he has even had a chance. He deserves a chance. Look even now he struggles to make his legs move. He isn't a cripple, but crushed, not given room to grow." She said. 

"Pup, you must learn to listen to those who know more than you about such things." He said. 

"I will when they do know more." She said. 

"Kathryn!" He said. 

"He knows mabaris, yes. But he doesn't know this puppy. He is fighting. He wants to live. Let me have him. I can take care of him, get him healthy and walking. He just needs time." She pleaded. 

"And what happens if he does not improve, if he is truly crippled and only suffers?" He asked her. 

"Then I shall kill him myself." She said with determination and he could see she meant it. "Father," she said softly. "If you are so sure he will die then this is a perfect opportunity to teach me a very valuable lesson. I will take him and when he does I will have learned that I should listen to others more." 

"And if you are proven right yet again, and he lives and walks, then you will always believe you are right and never listen to anyone." He said. 

"But Father, if I am always right, I have no need to listen to anyone else." Bryce tried as hard as he could but could not suppress a smile. 

"She has a point, Father." Fergus said. 

"You aren't helping." Bryce said. Fergus laughed. Bryce turned back to her. "You will not give this up, will you?" 

"No." She said simply. "And I will be perfectly insufferable, if I do not get my way in this." 

"You mean more than are now?" Fergus said. She glared at him. 

"Alright," Bryce finally said. "...but you are not to bother the kennel master or anyone else with him. This is your responsibility alone." 

"Thank you, Father." She gave him a quick kiss on the check and then went to collect her mabari. 

"Mother will be thrilled." Fergus said. 

"Yes, of that I am aware." Bryce said. 

Kathryn gently picked up the tiny thing. "I shall call you, Drake, for you have the heart of a dragon. I know you do." 

To the great surprise of all, except Kathryn, the pup lived. She fed him kitchen scraps and from her own plate, placing food just out of reach making him struggle to get it. She rubbed his tiny legs, stretching and pulling them, moving them for him for weeks. But she was proved right. The dog was not crippled. There was no deformity or problem with his legs. They simply had not had room to develop normally. After six months his legs had caught up in size to the rest of his body. Within a year, they had developed in strength and functioned normally. After eighteen months, he was indistinguishable from his brothers and sisters. 

She brought him to the kennel with pride and a great deal of sadness. Bryce was there, knowing that this would be difficult for her. The kennel master smiled and looked over Drake. "Well, you were right. He is quite a dog, beautiful specimen. He will make you a fine companion." 

"Me?" She asked looking at the kennel master and then at Bryce. 

"Yes, I believe that you deserve him. Now take him out to the yard and we will begin training." She looked to Bryce who while being somewhat confused by the turn of events, nodded to her. As they walked out of earshot the kennel master said, "I did not expect that." 

"What? I do not understand. I thought..." Bryce said confused. 

"He has already imprinted on her. As you know Mabaris choose their masters and he has chosen." He said. 

"How do you know?" Bryce asked. 

The kennel master smiled. "There are over thirty dogs here, four handlers, two trainers, a kennel master and a Teryn. A non-imprinted dog will survey the people and animals around, looking for the strongest one, the dominate one, be it man or animal. An imprinted dog pays no attention. The dog never looked away from her." 

"I guess that is not surprising." Bryce mused. "Given that she has cared for him all this time." 

"That has nothing to do with it." The kennel master said. "It is a pack instinct. The dogs may love their mothers who care and nurture them but they respect and obey their fathers, the leaders of the pack. A Mabari does not imprint based on love or loyalty or gratitude. They imprint based solely on strength. The love and devotion, if it comes, comes later. I did not expect him to imprint to her. Rarely do they imprint to a female, especially a male dog, but he must sense something in her." After a few moments, he continued. "Fergus is lucky." 

"To have such a sister..." Bryce asked. 

"No, that she loves him as she does or else he may have one day found himself on the losing end of a battle for Highever." 

3.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn got undressed and crawled into bed. There would be much to do to tomorrow. She had to be up early. She was being left in charge of the castle but she knew that the task was at best a consolation prize and at worst a tether to keep her from following the army to Ostagar. Father knew that she would not abandoned the castle, no matter how much she wanted to or its relative importance. He knew her too well. To be kept out of fighting... like... some... girl. This was to be her chance to prove that she was more than a respected name and a pretty face capable of bearing a noble's children. 

She had to do something soon. There was no place for her here, not anymore. She was becoming the outsider and she felt it. Not that any of them made her feel that way or had ever thought it. That was just the truth of it. 

Only so long could she avoid one of Mother's matches. Father had understood that she would never be happy with just anyone and wanted her to make her own choice. Mother was more practical and wanted her and any potential grandchildren to be provided for. But, one day Mother would convince Father to insist upon her marriage and then she would have no choice. It wasn't that she didn't want that, she did, but she also wanted something more, more out of a match and more out of her life. 

She wanted to do something important, not just be someone's wife. And she wouldn't get married just because that was what she was supposed to do, to just anyone with enough coin to keep her in velvet and silks. No, she wanted what her parents had, that magic and passion, that love and devotion that the bards sing of and that she had seen on a daily basis all her life. They loved and respected each other, took joy in the other one. To have grown up with that example, it was hard to accept anything less knowing for sure that it did truly exist. But she had not realized what a special and rare thing they had. 

Most of the nobles, Mother tried to match her up with wanted her for her name or beauty. They didn't want her for her, for her strength, personality and character. They all wanted a proper wife, to serve them, to differ to and fawn over them, to be weaker than them and look up to them. Most couldn't hold her interest for an entire conversation. But perhaps she was waiting for something that would never happen. Perhaps all men only wanted proper wives. Even Fergus who she loved and who loved and respected her more than anyone choose a proper wife for himself. Mother was strong willed to be sure but devoted to Father. Even the great Calenhad married the beautiful Mairyn and not the warrior Lady Shayna. 

What if she never found anyone like that? Was she willing to risk being alone? To wait for what might never happen? Or would something less be enough? Or at least better than nothing? Would she truly rather be by herself? If that were the case, then she really did have to do something soon. 

There was the Grey Warden. He had said that she would make an excellent candidate for recruitment. There could be worse fates than to fight for the salvation of the world, especially now that a blight was upon them. Could anything be more important? It would be something, to leave all she had known to fight monsters. But if the choice was that or marriage to some insufferable noble or being the dotty old aunt wandering the castle, well her choice was clear. 

He had come to test Ser Gilmore, who for his part was thrilled to even be considered. If he was recruited, then she would not be alone in this new path. And the thought of losing him, of him also moving on with his life and of her being left behind yet again, filled her with dread like nothing else. 

They had been raised together. He had come to squire at the castle when he was only ten and she barely eight. Fergus was older and nearly a man, so it was always just the two of them. They played, studied, trained and grew up together. Roland had been the only one who had not laughed at her when she said that she wanted to fight the dragon and not be rescued. 

Then one day, she was no longer a child but a woman and looked at him differently. They had kissed, in the kitchen, armory, barracks, in the rain, and anyplace they could find, even the chantry. Eventually, they were caught. Father put a stop to it. That seemed so long ago before he was a knight and she a lady. He was a good man, kind, brave and a talented warrior. She had never even considered that he would ever leave the castle, ever leave her. But there was no reason for him to stay, nothing here for him, not the way things were. 

The castle was quiet. Her eyes finally closed and she rolled over to her side and fell asleep. 

Chapter 4: Night 

4.1 Ser Gilmore 

Ser Gilmore had made probably a hundred laps of the castle in the last several days, preparing the army to leave for Ostagar and getting ready for the arrival of the Arl's men. He was disappointed to not have marched with the rest of the army. He suspected that the Teyrn had assigned him to guard the castle because he wanted him here to help Kathryn in case anything happened or, Maker forbid, if the battle in the south went terribly wrong. However, there may have been another motive. Kathryn had confirmed the rumors that there was indeed a Grey Warden in the castle and that he was there at least in some small part to test him for possible recruitment. He was thrilled beyond measure and was trying hard not to think about it and failing, miserably. 

Serving the Teyrn was a great honor and he took great pride in it. The Teyrn was a good man and a good ruler and becoming a knight more than he could have otherwise hoped for. The Teyrn and his family had been so kind to him. He could not have asked for a better patron. He owed them everything. They treated him nearly as family, even sending him off on menial errands he was happy to do. It showed how they didn't think of him as just a knight in their service but as a person and friend. 

He was determined that he would not leave without the Teyrn's blessing. But if the Grey Warden was asking so openly about him, it must be with the Teyrn's knowledge. And the fact that both he and the Grey Warden were staying behind, could not be a coincidence. 

To join the Grey Wardens was also great honor and a great responsibility. None were more respected, even here in Ferelden where they had been outlawed for ages. If you were recruited, it proved something about you and could give a fresh start, no matter the circumstances. It was the added benefit to dedicating yourself to the salvation of all, to fighting the worst creatures in the maker's world, to be all that stood between the land and its utter destruction. The sacrifice they make so that the rest do not have to was immense, not only risking and giving their lives, but turning away from all they were before. Then to be called on to do things that were necessary but difficult, such a burden was terrible. Not all could do it. It required so much more than just an ability to fight. And now that there was a Blight, the need for Grey Wardens was even greater. There were not that many in Ferelden having only been allowed back into the country about twenty years ago. They would need all the assistance they could get. 

He had never thought to leave the castle, being content to serve the Teyrn. This was his home more than even his father's lands in the bannorn. His only regret was leaving Kathryn. They had grown up together and been the best of friends. Even now as adults with the restrictions of class separating them, they were still close. Although not as close as they once had been. There had been a time when they had fancied themselves in love... maybe they had been... maybe... he still was. 

They had stolen kisses when they could. He had kissed others since, even lain with them, but none had touched his heart the way she had. The way, if he was honest with himself, she still did. But their positions made anything, any future an impossibility. He should be ashamed of that episode, embarrassed to have acted in such a way to the daughter of his lord. He had risked his entire future for those few moments. But thinking back on those times, the kisses shared in the dark, he could not regret it. He had been lucky when they had been discovered that the Teyrn hadn't sent him back to his father in shame. It would have been his right. He did not know if he could have born it or what it would have done to his father. He had begged but the Teyrn had said that there was no need, he would not send him back. The Teyrn was a good and understanding man, and had only asked for a promise that it end. It made him all the more devoted to him. 

But he knew that one day soon, she would be married off and gone from the castle and then the place wouldn't be home the way it was now. It would be difficult to stay behind and walk these very halls expecting to see her around every corner and for her not to ever be there. Most, he knew, only wanted her for her name or beauty which was considerable, he had to admit. But to watch as she was forced to marry someone like that, someone who did not appreciate her for her strength and fire, who she did not love nor respect and who neither loved nor respected her, a situation which unfortunately seemed likely, was a lot to ask of him. 

But he didn't have time to think on such things right now, there would be time tomorrow after the Teyrn had left. He hadn't even met the Grey Warden much less impressed him enough to be recruited. But one last indulgence, before he put all such thoughts from his mind for the night. He had to admit and had to her, that if there was anyone in the castle a Grey Warden should consider for recruitment, it should be her, especially with a Blight upon them. He knew the Teyrn wouldn't allow it but if she wanted to join, he may reconsider and then they would be together and perhaps... but enough. He had many things to do and the night was wearing on. 

4.2 Duncan 

The elven servant opened the door to the guest room, entered it and looked around making sure that everything was as it should be. It was. He held the door for Duncan to enter. "Here you are, ser. Is there anything else you need? Anything I can get you?" 

Duncan looked around the room, clean, warm and comfortable, better than the vast majority of places he had slept. "No, I'm... Yes, there is. Could you get me a glass of warm brandy? Nothing special just whatever is on hand." 

Duncan could see the elven servant consider the request for a second, not that he had any thought to refuse but just that he was considering how to fulfill such a request. As the elf's eyes widened again, Duncan could see that it would be a simple enough request to fulfill and was relieved. He hated to cause trouble for servants, especially elven ones, they had enough problems. Although the Teyrn and his family apparently treated all the servants very well and they in turn seemed devoted to the family. 

"Yes, of course, ser. That is no problem. I shall be back with it shortly." He said. 

"Thank you." Duncan said. The servant turned around and stepped out the door, closing it behind him. 

Duncan had gotten into the habit of taking a glass at night. It helped with the nightmares, not much but a little. Not the nightmares of the archdemon, the ones that told of the Blight. Nothing helped those. The archdemon was too powerful and too close. But the other ones, the ones that had crept up on him, subtly infiltrating his dreams. The ones that sat on the edge of his consciousness, like a wolf stalking its prey, the ones that told him in no uncertain terms that his callings was close, that it had in fact already started, that it was time. 

Those had started many months ago, before any of them had any hint a Blight was coming. At first he didn't understand, didn't realize what they were. The corruption acts like quicksand. At first you don't notice anything but before you comprehend what is going on, it is too late. When the others started having nightmares too, he had hoped that it wasn't his calling but the Blight that was causing them. But no these were different. In those, there was the archdemon, there to see and fight, the enemy clear, but in the others the enemy was inside him, insidiously tearing at his mind, and there was no way to defeat it. It was going to win and he knew it. Perhaps the Blight had hastened the taint in him. Or perhaps it was simply his time. 

He told them, the new Grey Wardens, that they had thirty years but in truth that was the maximum. The average time between when a warden took their joining and when they went for their callings was about twenty years, for some it was as little as ten or even five. If was different for all, depending on race, gender and the age of the person when they took the joining. He had beaten the average, but the timing couldn't be worse. He only prayed to be able to hold onto his health and sanity till he saw the end of the Blight. He prayed to the Maker that he would die ending the Blight, doing his duty, that it would be his hand that held the blade that killed the archdemon, that it was his life that would be sacrificed. But he also knew that it wasn't up to him. 

The death sentence was not easy for many to accept. Many felt, and justifiably so, betrayed. When he had told Alistair, he had grown angry. He had shown a temper that Duncan had not expected from him, a fury terrible in its intensity. Alistair had lashed out yelling at him and then stormed out. Later, he had come back and apologized, sincerely ashamed at what he had said and done, but in truth Duncan had already forgiven him. It was so very wrong that everyone in Alistair's life had lied or betrayed or abandoned him, even him. 

His friend had asked if he was fond of Alistair and he was. It was in truth hard not to be. He tried to keep him close knowing that his time with him was limited and knowing that he did need work, needed confidence and to somehow find a belief in himself, needed to learn restraint and that there was a time and place for things. 

Like revealing that you were having the nightmares, that your calling was close. The wardens generally didn't talk about such things, most only mention the fact right before leaving for their calling and many just leave. The warden commander admitting to that, especially during a Blight and to a junior member of the order was just not to be done. But he had admitted that to Alistair, surprised in his trust and confidence in one not only so young but that he did not know well. 

The fact that his calling had come had proved more of a burden than he would have thought, to have this secret weighing on him, wondering if his mind was still his own and if he would even know it if wasn't. He had known this day would come, of course, but he had never found anyone to replace him. Someone he felt confident enough to groom for leadership. He had to hang on as long as possible, with the Blight he had no choice. 

He had been unsure of Alistair's reaction but he had reacted with concern, a willingness to help in any way, a clear understanding of why it must be kept secret for now and a promise to Duncan that if at any time he had even a question about Duncan, he would tell him or tell the other senior grey wardens. Defeating the Blight was the most important thing, all else must fall to that, loyalty and even friendship. He had seen in Alistair's eyes that he understood and would do what he thought best. It gave Duncan much comfort. 

Duncan set his pack down and pulled out his recruitment notes. He wanted to write up this thoughts and information while it was still fresh in his mind. He had been impressed with the Teyrn and liked him. He seemed a good man, an intelligent man, dedicated to the rule of Highever and to Ferelden, one who understood and wanted to do his duty. To Duncan's relief he took the darkspawn threat seriously, even if some of the reports only suggested a large raid and not a Blight. He had heard that when Maric disappeared many had suggested that he would make a better ruler than Cailan. He wondered now if that might not actually be the case. He knew that he would feel much better with him at Ostagar. 

He pulled out a sheet of paper. At the top was written 'Ser Roland Gilmore, knight in the service of Teyrn Bryce Cousland of Highever, 24 year old, Human, Male, Warrior.' Below that the facts he knew about him. He had taken the opportunity of asking around the castle about him and had confirmed what he had heard. He skipped down to the blank area and wrote: 

'Reported by several castle servants and soldiers: Good man and skilled warrior. Well liked and well respected, possessed of a quiet manner and a calm demeanor, not one to panic in pressure situations, but confident and aggressiveness in battle. He was raised with the Teryn's daughter and nearly part of the family. Loyal and dutiful.' 

He had not actually met him yet, with the Teyrn and the army leaving, he had much to do and there would be time after the army had left for Ostagar. From all he had heard, Ser Gilmore seemed an excellent candidate, and he was looking forward to meeting him. That was in truth the only way for him to know if he was suitable or not. 

He knew what he was looking for in him as in all candidates, but he was hard pressed to be able to define it. Most thought the Grey Warden only recruited the most skilled, the most experienced, the fearless, the powerful, the honorable and the good. But that was not the case. Skills can be taught, experience gained, the fearless are often reckless, the powerful often overconfident. In truth, when facing the destruction of all, honor is not that important and the good may not have the heart to do what is necessary. He looked for a... something, a bearing, a demeanor, a toughness both mental and physical, a strength of mind of body but mostly of will, and above all character. He looked for those things innate to a person, those attributes that cannot be taught. 

He put the notes on Ser Gilmore aside and took out another sheet and wrote at the top: 'Kathryn Cousland, second child of Bryce Cousland, Teyrn of Highever, 22 year old, Human, Female, Rogue.' 

He had meet Kathryn, and while she was most definitely beautiful, there was a... something... in her eyes, that... something, the something he searched everywhere for. He had overheard the Teyrn telling her that he was leaving her in charge of the castle while they traveled to Ostagar, and she was not happy about it. But the fact that he was confident enough to leave her in charge of Highever while he was away, was impressive, and told much about the Teyrn's opinion of her. 

She had asked about the situation in the south and when he had mentioned that she would be an excellent candidate, she seemed intrigued by the idea. The Teyrn reacted as Duncan had expected and he had made clear that he had no intention of conscripting her, which was true. He had just wanted her to understand that he was interested, and after spending only moments in her company he was, very. 

Fire and will, strength and decorum, understood duty and fulfilled it even not what she wanted, intelligent. She was obviously a rogue but while her skill was not up to the level of a soldier, she had talent. The skill would come easily and quickly. He knew that given the situation, he would not have her at Ostagar but if horde wasn't broken, which he suspected it wouldn't be, perhaps pushed back which would give them more time, she may prove an invaluable asset. He would make it a point to talk to her tomorrow. If becoming a Grey Warden was something that she wanted, he had very little doubt that she could make it happen. 

He wrote 'Recommended for recruitment.' He put down his pen and looked at the sheet. From the stack of papers he picked up one. The writing across the top said, 'Alistair, templar initiate, 20 years old, Human, Male, Warrior.' Afterwards was written only the words: 'Recruited.' and then further down 'Passed joining.' 

He placed it next to the other one. They were the two best candidates he had found in all his time in Ferelden. And they were needed, so very desperately. He replaced the papers in his pack. It was late and the next day would be busy. 

He started to get undressed, when he remembered his brandy. The servant had been gone a long time. Suddenly Duncan got a very bad feeling. He had learned over time to trust such instincts. He picked up his pack and stepped into the hall. Everything was quiet, calm and seemingly normal. Then there was a noise Duncan couldn't place. He heard voices loud and angry coming from the front gate. Duncan drew his sword and began to run. 

Chapter 5: The Attack 

5.1 Duncan 

Duncan ran out of the family quarters down the main hall past the small atrium. He turned the corner in time to see four armed men surrounding the Teyrn. One was pulling a sword from the Teyrn's side. The Teyrn collapsed into a heap. 

Duncan attacked. He knocked the sword away from the first and then gutted him with his dagger. He spun around catching the next in the throat. The next recovered from the surprise and attacked him, but Duncan easily side stepped him. With a backhand motion, he stabbed him in the side of the neck. The last bashed him with his shield. Duncan recovered his footing quickly but kept his sword low and looked to the ground. The man charged expecting Duncan to still be stunned. Then with a quick uppercut, he buried his dagger into the man's chest. He pulled out the dagger and, not waiting to watch the man fall, hurried to the side of the Teyrn. 

"Duncan!" The Teyrn said. 

"Do not speak and try not to move." Duncan looked at the wound as blood flowed out. He had seen such wounds before and knew that it was fatal. The Teyrn would slowly bleed to death and there was nothing he could do. Even a healer, if one could be found soon enough, could do nothing. 

Duncan looked up. His eye caught the shield of one of one of the armed men. It bore the symbol of Ameranthine. It seemed Howe's men had finally arrived. He turned instinctively towards a noise and saw several more of Howe's men emerge from the Main Hall and start to run towards them. He stood up. "Stay down." He told the Teyrn. He took a couple steps in front of the Teryn, drew his weapons and waited for the men. 

As they approached, a red haired man in massive armor came running up beside him. "Warden Commander." He said with a slight nod of the head and then drew his sword. 

The first of the men attacked. Ser Gilmore countered the blow, punched the man and then followed the blow with a heavy strike from his sword. A second man attacked him, Ser Gilmore blocked it. Running past the dueling pair another man attacked Duncan. Duncan parried the blow, countered, was blocked, dodged the next two strikes and then stabbed the man with his dagger. He looked up to see that Ser Gilmore had dispatched his previous opponent and was now working on a second. Duncan ran up. Ser Gilmore saw him and positioned himself so that the man turned away from Duncan. Duncan struck, killing him in a single blow. For the moment the lane was clear. 

"Ser Gilmore?" Duncan said to the man. 

"Yes, I... Maker's Blood!" Ser Gilmore's eyes had caught sight of the Teyrn and he fell to his knees at the Teyrn's side. "Your lordship!" Ser Gilmore said with much emotion. Duncan could tell by his tone that he understood the extent of the Teyrn's injuries. 

"Roland... What is happening?" The Teyrn asked. 

"Howe's men have attacked the castle. Please, you have to flee." Ser Gilmore said. 

"I must find Eleanor and Kathryn." The Teyrn replied. Ser Gilmore looked to Duncan, both knew he was in no condition to do anything of the sort. 

"Is there another way out of the castle? A secret entrance, one hidden or not well known, something Howe's men are likely to miss?" Duncan asked. 

"The kitchen... the larder." The Teyrn said. "They will go... there if anywhere." 

"I will take the Teryn there and then look for the Terynia and Kathryn." Duncan said. 

"I must get to the gate. I will hold them as long as I can, give you as much time as possible." Ser Gilmore said. He held out his hand for Duncan, who took it. "Warden Commander, it was an honor." Without waiting for a reply, he ran off. 

Duncan, as gently as he could, helped the Teryn to his feet and for all intents and purposes carried him to the kitchen. The elven servants were already dead. He pushed open the larder door and put the Teryn down. Almost immediately a pool of blood began to spread around him. Duncan knew he didn't have much time left. "Please, stay down. I will return as soon as I am able." The Teyrn nodded and put his head down. Duncan left the room closing the door behind him. 

As he left the kitchen, he heard a noise from overhead. He looked up to see that either by design or accident fires had started around the castle. He watched as the top portion of the wall came down, blocking the way he had come. He ran down the other hall, trying each of the doors. Finally he found one that opened to the main hall. 

Ser Gilmore and a few other soldiers were fighting over a dozen of Howe's men. Duncan could see that they had managed to shut the gate, lock and bar it. He drew his sword and charged in, attacking one that was trying to flank Ser Gilmore. Within a few moments, the majority were defeated. Ser Gilmore turned to Duncan. "Did you find them?" Duncan shook his head. "The gate won't hold." Ser Gilmore continued. "We'll delay as long as we can but be swift." Duncan nodded and ran out of the room. 

He turned and ran back towards the family quarters. There seemed to be many more bodies than previously but Duncan simply noted the fact and hoped that Howe's men that had infiltrated the castle had all been killed by the guards and kept going. 

As he arrived in the family quarters, he prayed that none had made it this far, but that had not been the case. In front of the door to his room, several of Howe's men lay dead. The door to the family's rooms was open. There a few more lay on the stone floor. He looked into the Master Bedroom. It was empty as were the chests in the room. At least the Teyrna had escaped. He looked into one of the side rooms and saw a woman and small boy lying dead. Fergus's room and, no doubt his wife and child. He looked inside the other room. A servant was lying dead in the doorway an arrow in his back. Two more of Howe's men were dead inside. The weapon and armor racks and a chest were all empty. 

He turned and ran back down to the main part of the castle. Now the trail of dead bodies made sense. He could now see that while many had injuries from swords, arrows and even dog attacks most had been killed by daggers. As far as he knew there were only two people in the castle that fought with a dagger and he was the other one. He ran back into the main hall. Ser Gilmore and two other guards were holding the door. The bolts on the gate were broken and the post used to bar the gate now lay in pieces. Another post was being used but Duncan could see that the door itself and the frame were beginning to crack. 

Ser Gilmore looked to Duncan and said "They came through here... I... I sent them to kitchen... both Teyrna and Kathryn... gate... won't hold." Duncan could see that it was taking all the strength he had left to hold the gate closed. Duncan hated to leave him here but knew none of them would have time to escape if he left his post. He also knew that nothing he said or did would convince Ser Gilmore to do so. 

Duncan placed a hand on his shoulder, "Ser Gilmore, I would like to offer you a place within the Grey Wardens. If the Maker wills, join us." Ser Gilmore smiled at him. "Thank you. But please, hurry. Get her out of here." Duncan nodded and reluctantly ran out. 

As he entered the kitchen he could hear voices coming from the larder, the Teyrn and two female ones. He knew what he had to do, what the Blight forced him to do. He knew it would be one of the hardest things he had ever had to do as Warden Commander, to ask a dying man for the life of his child. 

But if he didn't, he knew that she would seek vengeance on Howe, even to her death, even to the detriment of defeating the Blight and he couldn't allow it. She was needed and he would not let her throw her life away for revenge, not with so much else at stake. He hoped that the Teyrn would understand, that he would help him. If he didn't, if she didn't listen, he may be forced to more drastic measures but hoped that it would not come to that. 

He heard the Teyrn say, "The castle is surrounded. I cannot make it." as he stepped into the larder. 

5.2 The Road 

They had been walking for hours. Duncan knew that they had to get as far away from the castle as they could. Soon, if they hadn’t already, his men would realize that they had escaped and hunt them down, for whatever Howe's plan was, it did not include anyone escaping to tell the king or the Landsmeet what had happened. It was essential that they leave no trace, that they simply disappear into the landscape. 

Duncan noted with satisfaction that despite all that she had been through Kathryn still had the presence of mind to be discrete, to put her hair up and over her face, to not look anyone in the eye, to pretend to cough or sneeze when anyone passed. 

She had not spoken since they left the castle. She had followed his lead, doing all he said without question or hesitation. Not out of loyalty or even respect but simple necessity. The stress and strain of all that had happened had pushed her to her limit. She trusted him at least to the extent that he didn't want either of them to get captured or even discovered. And sneaking out of her home past guards wanting to kill her, not something she really had any idea of how to do. But she picked up essentials of stealth quickly, intuitively understanding the idea of slow movement and then quick action, of patience and haste, of shadow and noise. 

Once they were out of immediate danger, she had suddenly raced up a hill and stood at the top, looking back to the castle. The bells had long since stopped ringing. Smoke no longer rose from it. It was still and calm. She looked back knowing that all inside were now dead. She looked a long time. There were no tears, no expression, whatever she felt she held close to her. Duncan had the feeling of watching iron become steel. Then without word or warning, she turned and walked away. 

Hours later they were still walking. Duncan thought that they had nearly put enough distance between them and the castle but wanted to make the next ridge. Put too many options about where they might be or where they might have gone for Howe's men to explore. They were of course going to Ostagar and Howe knew that, so they would have to be careful but quick. 

Duncan heard the dog, trot up to him and begin to whine. He stopped and looked at him. The dog barked, satisfied that he had Duncan's attention and then trotted back to where Kathryn was walking or wasn't walking. She was standing, head bowed and slumped. He hurried back to her in time to catch her as she fell. She was unconscious, passed out, most likely from exhaustion but he needed to check. If she had some internal bleeding or a head trauma... He looked around. Off the road way, there was a clump of trees, a place to camp for the night. He took her up in his arms and carried her to the spot and hoped they had gotten far enough. 

5.3 Ser Gilmore 

pain... sharp... dull... aches and stabbing... can't be dead... too much pain... sick... smoke... voices... don't move... can't move... hurt to breathe... hurt to think... but had to... what had happened... fighting... castle attacked... Howe's men... Then everything came back in a flash, the attack, the Teyrn injured, barring the front gate, the Teyrna and Kathryn, a last kiss, barricading the door, the Grey Warden, the door and frame of the main gate giving way, Howe's men pouring inside. He had fought with all he had left, to buy the others time to escape. He had prayed that it had been enough and then everything had went black. 

Now he was here, wherever here was. Eyes were closed and didn't yet want to risk opening them. He listened carefully. He could hear voices, ones that he didn't recognize. He methodically took inventory of his situation. He could feel all parts of his body and while everything hurt, nothing seemed to be broken or injured beyond use. 

He could hear a fire. There was smoke, a horrible smell and a slight breeze. He was laying on his back but it didn't feel like he was laying on stone but the ground. He was outside. They had moved him outside, but why? Why not a cell in the dungeon? He tried to move, only could manage a little but it didn't feel like paralysis or an injury but more a restriction. 

Oh Maker! He thought as the realization hit him. They were burning the bodies! With his injuries they had thought him dead. The reason he couldn't move was the weight of the other bodies on top of him. It seemed the sheer number of dead had saved him, that and the fact that he was on the bottom of the pile. His massive armor the only thing preventing him from being crushed. 

The voices were far enough away that he couldn't understand them. He decided to risk opening his eyes. The light felt like pins in his eyes. Waves of nausea, washed over him, dizzy. Head trauma. He forced his eyes open, letting them adjust to the light. The light was soft and tinted. As his eyes adjusted, slowly and painfully, he could make out the stack of limbs on top of him. He moved his eyes toward the sound of the voices and the fire. He could make out three guards, bleeding out the bodies and tossing them into a fire pit. 

They were in the grounds behind the castle. There were woods close but the tree line was some twenty to forty feet away. If he could get to them without being noticed, he had a chance. He was under the pile but the guards were occupied and not paying any attention. 

'If the Maker wills...' He slowly began to move, a little bit at a time. He would move, feel the pile shift and then wait, not daring to breathe, praying not to be noticed or discovered. Then he would move again, feel the pile shift and wait, pray, then do it all again and again and again, fractions of an inch at a time. He had to be patient, not panic, not rush. Finally he brought his arm up to his chest and carefully pushed the body on top of him over, move, push, wait... move, push, wait, again and again. Then after what seemed an age, he was free of the pile. 

The light had faded, shadows pooled around the edges of the pit. The trees were over thirty feet away. He had a choice to make, quick or slow, creep through the distance, hoping the fading light and shadows would hide him or make a quick strong break for it. There was not much strength left in him, but there was a great deal of anger, pain and sorrow. He hoped it was enough. 

Then two of the guards turned and started to walk over to the pile. He rolled over to his stomach, pain shooting through his sides, and moved close to the pile. 

"Start on this stack." The one guard said to the other. "Arl wants this done quick, but remember to save the family till last. Howe wants to see them before burned." 

"What's he waiting for?" the other asked. 

"He is still talking to prisoners, trying to find out where the girl might have went." That could only mean one thing, Ser Gilmore thought, Kathryn had escaped. Thank the Maker! "He isn't at all happy she got away." The guard continued. "Someone's head is going to roll if she isn't found." 

"Here I got this one, you get that guy on top." The first grabbed a body from the side of the pile and dragged it back where the other guard was draining the bodies before putting them into the pit. The other pulled down the body on top. Ser Gilmore grabbed him from behind. He put his hand over his nose and mouth, using weight to force him to the ground. He could suffocate him, make him pass out but that took time. He looked up and the other one was starting back. Ser Gilmore broke the guard's neck. He put him on top of the pile and hid behind it, crouched low to the ground. 

"Hey, where did you go? Can't be wasting time. Arl's already in a bad mood. Fine time to take a piss." He then grabbed the top body and dragged it back placing it next to the first. As he dropped the body to the ground he looked at it and saw that it was the body of the other guard. "What...?!" Ser Gilmore jumped him but he was too weak and had too many injuries. The man fought back and they fell to the ground. Ser Gilmore knew he couldn't let him out of his grasp or he was dead. He rolled him over, getting on top of him and with a quick hit crushed his windpipe. 

Without looking he ducked the strike from the other guard. He got up too quickly, dizzy, he was forced to a knee. He watched as the guard rushed him. He grabbed the sword, getting to his feet and letting the guard push him back towards the pit. Then he let go of the sword and fell to the ground. The guard rushed past and straight into the pit. Ser Gilmore laid on the ground, trying to breathe, listening till the muffled screams of the guard stopped. 

With a great deal of effort, he got to his feet. He knew he didn't have much time. He walked to the other end of the pit. There he saw the Teyrn and the Teyrna. They both looked calm and at peace. The Teyrn had only the one injury. The Teyrna also had only one, a vicious slash across her left forearm. Both had apparently died from blood loss, quietly and peacefully and before Howe's men had reached them. There was some small bit of justice that they had died together and unmolested. 

He threw more wood into the fire. As the flames reached two stories, he took the body of the Teryn and gently tossed it on the pyre. He then put the Terynia next to him, and watched as they burned. 

The Arl would not abuse them, not get his victory, they had escaped. Now it was his turn. He grabbed a sword and shield from the ground. It was not his preferred weapon but he could use them and took off for the trees. 

He had to reach Ostagar, that was where Fergus and the king were and where Kathryn would be headed and besides, he had an offer to accept. 

Chapter 6: Camp 

Duncan watched as the evening light faded to black. The small fire crackled and burned. He looked over to where Kathryn slept. She hadn't moved at all since he had placed her by the fire. She didn't have any significant injuries, only a few cuts and bruises, no head trauma, no internal bleeding, nor ruptured organs or anything of the kind. He figured that her collapse was the result of exhaustion which had more to do with the mental strain of the day than its physical toil on her. 

He kept watch on the road, but there had been nothing but a few travelers and locals. But still they had stayed out of their sight. Drake stood nearby watching the darkness, sniffing the air and listening. If anything came close he knew the dog would know. Somehow the mabari knew that they were being hunted and was on guard. 

He opened up his pack. As he had walked through the kitchen, without thinking or even knowing he had done it, he had grabbed some food. It was a habit he had never let go of, despite or perhaps because of his years as a Grey Warden. 

But as one battle hardened Grey Warden warrior told him when he had become Warden Commander, "All rogues have the soul of a thief. It is their nature. They believe that everything is theirs for the taking whether coin or power or an opponent's life. Everything is allowed as long as you can get away with it or are willing to pay the price of it. They know nothing of nor care about honor or respect, right or wrong, decency, integrity, fairness, justness or goodness. You cannot trust them, ever. They will lie, beg, borrow and steal without a second thought it if suits their purposes and furthers their goals. They are always looking for an edge, sizing you up. Every contest is a battle of wits, not skill or strength. They do not play their strength to your strength, no they play to your weakness, exploit it. It is the coward's way." 

Duncan had asked "What of a situation where what you are fighting for is of such importance that you must do whatever is necessary to achieve that end?" 

He had snorted and answered, "See that's a rogue talking. They don't understand honor, why it's important. You don't have to explain honor to a warrior. They may not follow it but you don't have to explain it to them. They understand it, it is part of who they are." 

Duncan then said "What if I were to say that warriors are simple minded creatures, who can only see how to fight with their arm and cry fowl and dishonor anytime they are beaten by wits. That they are too foolish to comprehend how their archaic notions of honor and fair-play, cause harm and prevent the achievement of goals that would provide the most benefit for the most people." 

The old warrior smiled at Duncan and had held out his hand. Duncan took it, and then the warrior said "It seems we understand each other perfectly, Warden Commander." 

They had fought side by side for many years, then one day he was gone. As so many of his friends now were. He had never found another partner. Many of the Grey Wardens preferred to fight in pairs or small groups. They would practice together, developing strategies and tactics together. The practice made them better fighters, the friendships better wardens. Bonds of trust and loyalty develop, allowing them to accomplish so much more than if they were simply a group of individuals. 

At times those bonds became something more. There were not many such relationships among the Grey Wardens simply because there were so few female wardens. At the present time, there were none here in Ferelden. Some of the Grey Wardens were married to others, of course. Many of them worked for the Grey Wardens as cooks or blacksmiths, etc. There were on occasion relationships between the men. Duncan had made it clear to all, that a warden's personal life was their own as long as it did not interfere with their duty. It was the least he could do for old friends, long gone. 

Duncan looked back to Kathryn. His friend had said that she could be trouble and he could see how. He had no doubt at all that she could have most any man wrapped around her finger within moments, if she had the desire to. It was a good thing that most agreed she had a good and generous heart and was above playing with people's emotions. He, himself, was not completely immune. If he wasn't twice her age, if there was no Blight, if his calling had not begun, in short if it was ten years ago, then… but it wasn't. 

He took his notes out of his pack and thumbed through them. He knew better than to make plans for recruits, to get too close to them, since you never knew who would pass the joining or not. Some you were sure would make it, didn't and some you thought had very little chance, survived. But it was a rule he broke much more than he ever kept. But he told himself it was better to be prepared, there would be little enough time after the joining. 

Ser Jory a knight from Highever. He thought to put him with another warrior and a mage. They had fought together for a while now but he knew Ser Jory would fit right in. 

Daveth, the cut-purse from Denerim. He reminded him so much of himself or perhaps the man he was or would have been if not for the Grey Wardens. There were not as many rogues as warriors in the Grey Wardens and very few mages. Daveth was quick with a blade, sure, but he had surprising skill with a bow. He would be a good back up to another pair of warriors he was thinking of. 

Kathryn, he had not seen her fight but had seen her handiwork and gotten a glimpse of her personality and character. She was a fighter, one to be in the thick of battle where her fierceness was an asset, leading a charge, seemingly disappearing then reappearing in time to stab the opponent in the back as opposed to sneaking along the edges of the battle. Not that sneaking isn't important, the Maker knows, but not her style. Her greatest attribute, he believed, was her intelligence and instincts, her ability to adjust to the changing circumstances in battle and think on her feet. 

But even such a rogue fights better in shadow, attacking from the side and the back, and to have a shadow you need a light. Someone to draw the attention of enemies, like a moth to flame. Someone who can get and hold their attention, distract them and allow her to use her abilities to best advantage. Someone adept at defense, someone who can give and take a great deal of punishment when needed and someone who can take on tougher opponents while she distracts and cripples them. Someone who understands that victory is what is important. Someone with the opposite set of talents, highly skilled, with equally good instincts, someone just as strong but in a different way... He had never really tried anything like that before. Generally went with the traditional match-ups but never had anyone to try it with... 

He heard a noise and looked up from his notes. She was beginning to stir. He placed his papers back into his pack and brought out the food he had picked up: apples, cheese, bread and some cookies. 

Kathryn shook her head and stretched, opening her eyes. He could see the sudden confusion as she initially didn't know or even understand where she was. Then it came back to her. She closed her eyes again and let the memory and sorrow wash through her. A deep breath and then she opened her eyes again and looked to Duncan. 

He smiled a reassuring smile and said. "Are you alright?" 

"Yes, thank you." At least her manners had not deserted her. 

"Come, you need to eat something." Duncan said. She got up and walked over to where he had laid out the food. She then stopped and looked confused. 

"I have food too, I think." She looked around for her pack. She picked it up and then sat down by the food. She opened it and brought out: figs, dried meat, more bread, pastries and a bottle of wine. "I thought we... Mother and I... might need... Actually I didn't really think about it, I just picked it up." 

Duncan looked at the food with approval. "No, it shows great thought, just not consciously. Good instincts. Always listen to those, they will help you and even save your life on occasion." She nodded and picked up an apple. Drake got up and walked over to her. She scratched behind his ears and gave him some of the dried meat. 

Though neither felt hungry, they finished off most of the food. They ate in silence. Kathryn stared into the fire, eyes not seeing anything, mind far away. Duncan waited, knowing that she would speak when she was ready. 

He passed her some wine. She took it and then looked to him. "You have lost people, friends, family, I mean like this, suddenly... violently, no?" 

"Yes, I have, as many people have." He said. 

"Does it get better? Easier?" She asked. 

Duncan considered what to say. "I think you simply get used to the pain. The sharp becomes dull, but it never fully heals. Then one day it is simply a part of you. And you continue on, as you must. But you will never be as you were before." 

She smiled. "At least you are honest." 

"Not with everyone." He said. 

She smiled again. "No, you can't be, can you? In this as in everything else." 

"No," he continued. "Some need comfort, some want truth. All go through such things differently. There is no right way to grieve. Some grieve intensely, the grief crippling them, for a while and then go on. Some simmer, hobbled, for years. Some in bits and pieces over time. All are different and all must find their own way through." He said. 

"I never lost anyone like that. I don't really remember my grandparents. They died when I was small. Fergus does a little but..." Her voice trailed off and she was quiet again. "I'm ashamed of myself for being so angry..." she started. 

"Of course, you are angry. That is normal..." he said. 

"...at Mother." She looked up to Duncan. "She stayed. Leaving me to tell Fergus what happened, to perhaps bear the burden of vengeance for all of them... myself... alone... to help defeat the Blight, even reclaim Highever... She stayed and left me alone..." 

Duncan took another drink of wine, keeping his eyes on her. Listening. She began again. "I always wanted that, what they had together but to love one so much that you do not even wish to live without... it must be a terrible thing." 

"Yes," Duncan said gently. "But a beautiful thing too. Many would trade their lives for something such as that." 

"Isn't that what the bards sing of?" She asked a touch bitterly. "The beautiful maidens who die for the loss of their loves, the knights..." she winced, then continued. "I always thought that was made up by the bards. I know love exists, deep love for another even... but..." 

"It must exist for them to be able to sing about it, even if they have never experienced it themselves." Duncan said. 

"Just because it does exist does not mean it is a good thing, a desirable thing." She said. 

"True, but what do you think your parents would say about it?" He asked. 

She looked to Duncan and then back to the fire. After a while she said, "We wouldn't have escaped the castle if she had come, would we?" 

"I don't know. But it would have been more difficult." Duncan said. 

"Nothing would be different if I had stayed, would it?" She asked. 

"Except that you would now also be dead, no." Duncan said. 

"They told me to go, said I had to for my sake and for Ferelden's. I had to help stop the Blight, warn Fergus, take vengeance, perhaps retake and rule Highever, do my duty. And I know that they would not have wanted me to stay, to sacrifice myself for nothing, and it would have been for nothing. I know that in my heart but yet it still feels like I abandoned them. That I could have... should have done... something. That somehow it is my fault. I wanted to go to Ostagar, even wanted to join the Grey Wardens but I couldn't… and now I am..." 

"No." Duncan said with force. He sat up and leaned towards her. She looked up surprised. "Everyone wants to blame themselves when something like this happens. They want to think that there must have been something they could have done, even if there wasn't. Because it lets you feel that somehow you are in control. Your fate is your own, when in so many cases it is not. You cannot blame yourself for what happened. You can only accept it and continue on the best you can." He hoped that the strength of his words would have an effect. He watched her, unsure. Then said. "Death is assured, all that is up to us is how we live. The good we can do in the time we have. The difference we can make." 

"Is that why you are a Grey Warden?" She asked without any sarcasm. 

"No. I was conscripted, against my will, I might add." He said. 

"But became a true believer?" She asked. 

"Something like that. But I was given time, time I shouldn't have had. And hopefully I will be judged by what I have done with that time. You have been given time. Spend it wisely." He said and then leaned back. 

"Are you glad you were conscripted?" She asked. 

"Most days." He said with a slight smile. 

She stared into the fire and then up into the sky. After long moments she turned back to him. "The Blight must be defeated." Duncan wondered if she was even aware that she was using the words of her father. She continued "I understand that and I will do all I can to see that end. But once that is done and if Howe still lives and if I survive, I'm going to kill him, somehow, someway." 

"Yes, I know." He said. 

"And I want you to promise me something." She said. 

"If I can." He said unsure. 

"That if I don't see the end of the Blight and Howe does... promise me that you'll see to it that he pays." She looked up to him with an odd mix of hope, sorrow and resolve. 

Duncan looked at her for a long moment and then said "If I survive the Blight and so does Howe, I promise that I will see him die, either by your hand... or mine." 

She started to say something and then looked away, up into the stars. Finally she said. "You should get some sleep. I can keep watch." Duncan finished his wine and laid back upon the ground and was soon asleep. 

Kathryn opened her pack and took out one of the few personal items she had brought with her. A journal. It was almost new. Only the first few pages had writing on them. She flipped through them: shopping lists for Denerim, notes on a new dress, social appointments, ideas for what to get for presents, comments on the insufferable noble mother wanted her to meet, bad poetry... She ripped out all of the old pages and threw them onto the fire. 

On the next page, she wrote out the name of everyone who had lived and had died at the castle: Bryce Cousland, Eleanor Cousland, Ser Roland Gilmore, Orenia, Oren, Nan, on and on. When she was done, at the very end of the list, she wrote 'Kathryn Cousland'. Then she ripped out the page, threw it onto the fire, and watched as it burned to ash. 

Chapter 7: King’s Camp 

7.1 Alistair 

The elven messenger ran up to Alistair and held out a letter. "Delivery for you, ser. It just arrived by special messenger." Alistair took the letter, on the front was written 'Alistair of the Grey Wardens, King's Camp, Ostagar' in Duncan's hand. 

Duncan had sent the rest of the Grey Wardens and the two recruits on to Ostagar while he was going to Highever, on the Teyrn's own invitation, to check on a potential recruit. Fergus Cousland had already arrived with the bulk of Highever's army. Alistair was not expecting a letter but Duncan's arrival. Something about this wasn't right. 

"Did the messenger say from where he got the message or who he got it from?" Alistair asked. 

"I asked, ser. He said he got it from a red-headed male elf with a scar over one eye in Denerim, ser." Alistair knew that there wasn't anyone like that in the Grey Warden compound. "But…" the messenger said thoughtful. 

"Yes?" Alistair said. 

"Well, he said he got the message in Denerim, ser, but then he commented about the weather on the lake." He said. 

Alistair nodded. "I see. Yes, thank you." 

"Yes, ser." He then turned and ran off with his other deliveries. 

For some reason, Duncan didn't want anyone to know where letter was coming from. But most knew he was at Highever, so why lie and no doubt pay the messenger to lie about where he got the message. He didn't like it. Alistair opened the letter. 

'Alistair, On way, should arrive the day after you receive this letter. Inform others and king. Bringing new recruit, Kathryn, twenty-two year old female, human, rogue. Dual wielding dagger and some long bow. Impressive skills and character, very talented, shows great promise. Get other recruits ready for test and joining. Duncan' 

Something was definitely wrong, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. But he had things to do. Including informing the king. Given that it was the thing he least wanted to do, and that he was 'the king' he'd do that first. If he was lucky Cailan would be out with the soldiers or riding with the rest of the Grey Wardens or talking with (or being talked at by) Loghain. Then he could inform the Royal Guard instead. At least, he could hope. 

7.2 Alistair and Cailan 

Yes, that would work out better for everyone. He figured Cailan at worst wouldn't want the reminder of his father's infidelity in his sight, and at best wouldn't want to be seen with him. The resemblance, despite the slight difference in coloring, was remarkable. That was, in fact, the way Alistair even knew the true identity of his father. The simple fact that he looked so much like Cailan. 

He had never met Maric. No doubt Maric never forgave him for committing the unspeakable sin of being born, but he had meet Cailan when he was a child. Maric and Cailan had come to Redcliffe. The entire household was introduced to Cailan, who was apparently bored by the whole thing and much more interested in exploring the armory. 

But Alistair had been struck by how much he looked like him. It was like looking in a mirror. Later he had commented to the kitchen staff that maybe they were brothers. They had laughed. For it had always been assumed by everyone that he was the Arl's child but then he saw the looks, curious and thoughtful with eyes wide, and they had stopped laughing. 

At first, the Arl tried to persuade him that it wasn't true, but the more he tried the more Alistair was convinced it was. 

"Alistair you can't go around saying that Cailan is your brother." The Arl had said. 

"Why not?" Alistair had asked. 

"Because, he isn't. You know who your mother and father are and they are both gone to the Maker. Cailan's parents are the king and queen." The Arl had answered. 

"But he looks like me." Alistair replied. 

"Yes, he does, but..." Even the Arl couldn't deny the truth of that. 

"Don't brothers look alike?" Alistair had asked. 

"Yes, they do... but…" Arl said. 

"Who does Cailan look like?" Alistair asked. 

"His father, but Alistair… you aren't related to him." The Arl obviously didn't like this line of questioning. 

"But if I look like him I have to be." And nothing the Arl said could change his mind. 

Finally, the Arl had admitted the truth and had convinced him of the wisdom of keeping the identity of his father a secret for his own sake and for Ferelden. Besides he really didn't want the throne anyway and being a bastard had been enough of a problem. He didn't want to think about how much worse it would have been if it had been known he was Maric's bastard. 

He had told Duncan, but he hadn't wanted to, because he could always tell after someone found out. They treated him differently and he hated it. But he also hadn't wanted to lie to him, especially after all Duncan had done for him. Sometime after his joining, Duncan had asked him why he was at the monastery since it was clear he didn't want to be there and had no interest in being a templar. 

"My mother was a serving girl at Redcliffe castle and she died when I was young, too young to remember her. The Arl let me stay until I was aged ten and then he sent me to the monastery." Alistair had told him. 

"What about your father?" Duncan had asked. 

"The man they told me was my father died before my mother." Alistair had said. 

"I'm sorry." Duncan had said. Alistair had only shrugged. After a pause, Duncan had said. "You don't believe that he is your father, the man they told you was." 

"No. He isn't… wasn't. I know that." Alistair had replied. 

"I see." The unasked question was left hanging in the air. After several moments with Alistair looking at the floor. Duncan continued. "I didn't mean to bring up a delicate or painful subject. I was just asking about the monastery and why you were being trained as a templar. But please do not feel the need to say anything more than you feel comfortable. Within the Grey Wardens, the past doesn't matter." 

"It isn't the Arl." Alistair said suddenly. 

Duncan looked slightly surprised. "That would be the natural assumption." 

"I know but he isn't. I don't even look like him." Alistair said. "That was the rumor, of course. It bothered the Arlessa and she had me sent to the monastery, but it's not him." Duncan waited. Alistair finally said. "It's… Maric… King Maric… that's my father." 

Duncan's eyes got slightly wider and then he began to nod. "Yes, I can see the resemblance. That cannot be an easy thing to tell people." 

"I'd really rather no one know. Everyone always treats me differently once they find out" Alistair said nearly pleading. 

"Of course, I won't say anything. But I am glad you felt that you could tell me." Duncan had said with a smile. 

Alistair arrived at the King's tent. He walked up to the Royal Guard. "Is the King here?" 

"No, I think he is in the main camp with his soldiers." The guard replied. 

"Oh, good.” He said. “I mean… I got a message from Duncan…" 

"From Duncan." Cailan said from behind him. Alistair turned around. Cailan was standing there with a couple of his bodyguards. 

"Yes, your highness. It just arrived. He wanted me to inform you that he should be here tomorrow in time for the battle." Alistair said. 

"Excellent. Thank you for telling me." Cailan said. 

"Just doing what I'm told…" Alistair started to turn away and then turned back, looking Cailan in the eye he said "…your highness." He again started to walk away. 

"He was in Highever, looking at a possible recruit, correct?" Cailan asked. 

Alistair stopped and turned back to him. "Yes, your highness." 

"And did he find one?" Cailan asked. 

"Yes, he is bringing her with him." Alistair replied. 

"Her?" Cailan sounded surprised. 

"Yes, a female human, Kathryn." Alistair told him. 

"Kathryn! Kathryn Cousland! The Teyrn's daughter?" Cailan said shocked. 

"He didn't say." Alistair was now a bit confused. He thought over the letter. "He just said 'Kathryn'." Cailan seemed to consider the idea. Alistair waited a moment and then said. "If that's all I have other things to do, your highness." 

"Yes, please. I don't want to keep you." Alistair gave a slight and reluctant bow and left. 

When Alistair was out of earshot, one of the guards said. "Doesn't he know the proper way to speak to the king?" 

Cailan looked after Alistair and then let out a sigh. "Oh, he knows. It is just his way of showing that he is… and that he knows that I know he is… and proving that I know that he knows that I know. That's all." 

"Why don't you just talk to him?" The other guard asked. 

"Might have something to do with the fact that he hates me or at least resents me and he should. If I were him I'd resent me too. Can't you tell by the way he says 'your highness' like it's an insult." Cailan said. 

"It isn't your fault." The guard said. 

"What that I'm king and he is a… No, but it isn't his either. It's father's and he probably and justifiably hates him too. It wasn't fair, not to him or to me. I had a right to know I had a… I can't even say it out loud." Cailan said. 

"Then you understand why your father couldn't say anything." The other guard said. 

"I know but he could have done better by him. I should have done better by him." Cailan said. 

"You tried to bring him to court." He said. 

"I know but he was training to be a templar and then he got recruited by the Grey Wardens before I could. Then the Blight… obviously the Maker has other ideas. I just need... to keep him out of the fighting… in case…" Cailan's voice trailed off. 

"In case of what?" The guard asked. 

"Nothing… nothing." 

7.3 Alistair 

Alistair did his other allotted tasks ending with hunting down the two recruits to tell them that Duncan should be there tomorrow with the new recruit and then they could proceed with the joining. Ser Jory was writing a letter to his wife. Daveth would either be practicing his archery skills which were impressive if by his own admission a bit rusty or flirting with any female in camp. Thankfully he was practicing. After those being completed he sat down under a tree and went back over the letter. 

Duncan had been short, quick with words and to the point. He was in a hurry, yes, but not so much or in what he considered any danger or he would not have taken the time to praise the new recruit. There was no cloaked call for help that he could see. Alistair felt sure something unexpected had happened to change Duncan's plans but it seemed that both him and the recruit were fine and not in need of assistance. There was nothing he could do but wait. 

His thoughts then turned to the new recruit, Kathryn, a woman, that would be... something. As it were, there were no women Grey Wardens. A few of the Grey Warden were married, of course, so there were women around the Grey Wardens but no women Grey Wardens. 

He had seen pictures of a few, and while he had no idea what kind of wardens they had been, they didn't really look like anyone he wanted to meet. It wasn't that they were ugly, although he might be hard pressed to call them 'pretty', but it wasn't like that mattered. They just had a look about them, something harsh and unfriendly. Reminded him of the sisters at the monastery. Maybe they felt they had to be like that, look tough and mean, to be thought of seriously. Maybe being a warden was harder for women, but whatever the reasons, they didn't look nice. 

He hoped that this Kathryn was… nice. 

He doubted very much that it was the same Kathryn who was the Teyrn's daughter. But whoever she was, if Duncan saw something in her, was that impressed with her, he had no doubt she would make a fine Grey Warden. With the Blight, they needed all the help they could get, but... it would be nice if she was… nice. 

He hadn't really had time to make friends in the Grey Wardens, besides Duncan, of course. From recruitment to the joining and now the Blight, most of it was a blur. He wanted to, and most of them had been friendly towards him. A few he was even starting to like. He was so used to being on his own, being on the outside, that he now found it difficult to make friends. He really didn't know how. 

He wasn't expecting or even hoping for anything more from her. No, he had given up any hope of that long ago, when his fate had seemed sealed in the chantry. Templars could marry but it wasn't common, since they are not paid for their services. So any spouse has to make their own way in the world, have their own income, house, and provide for any children. 

Some of the Grey Wardens were married, but not many. Most of those had been married before they took the joining. And since no women Grey Wardens, figured not really going to meet any. Not that it would do him any good if he did, he hardly knew how to make friends much less have any idea about women. 

He just figured that he wouldn't have anything like that, and he was okay with that… really. Not that he didn't want that but, to be in love… was something he couldn't even imagine. To feel for someone what the bards sang of, what so many talked about. To respect and care about someone that much, to want to be with them always, to want to… lie with them. 

He knew about that, of course. The chantry figured if it was going to forbid something, at least till marriage, they had to at least tell you what it was you weren't supposed to do. He had thought about it, of course. He knew that there was a brothel in Denerim but had never really considered it. He didn't want to do that with just anyone. He did take it seriously and maybe it was better for him not to know what he was missing. Better to wait just in case it did happen. Just in case... there was someone out there he could respect and care about… that he could... love. But he doubted it. He remembered reading about Calenhad and how he had married the beautiful Mairyn and not the warrior Lady Shayna, and he never understood why for she was the one fighting by his side. The adults had just shook their heads. "One day you'll understand." They said, but he still didn't, and maybe he never would. 

Anyway… he just hoped that she was nice… kind and generous… with a sense of humor, and... well, since we was hoping... at least not ugly... if that isn't asking too much. 

But there was the Blight to stop, and he had a duty and responsibility to protect a world where those things were possible... at least for other people. 

Chapter 8: Ostagar 

8.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn stood at the far side of the bridge to the king's camp. They had just arrived at Ostagar and she had met King Cailan. Duncan had said she could explore the camp and then when she was ready, they would proceed with the joining. She watched as he walked out of sight. 

She was alone and she felt every bit of it. Winds, strong and cold, blew over the bride, whipping around her, seemingly blowing straight through her. She turned to face them. They blew her hair back, stinging her face, causing tears to form and fall streaking from her eyes. 

She should be dead and that's exactly how she felt, numb and lifeless. Is that what happens when the pain is too much? You stop being able to feel at all. She felt empty inside. At first it had been like part of her being ripped out. Now she could feel the hole in the center of her being. Where there had been happiness and pleasure and love, there was just a dead calm. She couldn't feel anything. It was hard to even remember how it felt to be happy or excited or content or being able to laugh or even smile. 

'The depth of joy you are capable of is only equaled by the amount of sorrow you can endure.' 

She had heard that somewhere and it had stuck with her but she hadn't understood it at the time. Maybe you pay for the happiness you feel in your life. Maybe it all balances out in the end, equal parts sorrow and joy, pain and pleasure, fear and love. Maybe then it was better not to feel anything. She wanted to believe that but couldn't. But to care again about anything, to risk the pain of its loss, was too difficult to even think about now, too hard to even imagine. Right now, all she could do was focus on her duty to the Grey Wardens, to Ferelden and her family. After that was done, perhaps then… but now the numbness allowed her to function, to go on and do what needed to be done. And that's all that mattered. 

She needed to find the other Grey Warden… Alistair, so that she could go through the joining. He shouldn't be that hard to find. No doubt he was like Duncan, calm, polite, brave, sense of gravity about him, serious and dutiful, responsible and stalwart, taciturn, much as she figured most Grey Wardens were. 

She walked across the bridge and wandered around the rest of the camp, talking to people and learning much. She met the other recruits, Ser Jory from Highever, she thought about telling him what had happened but he would find out soon enough and she didn't want to talk about it, and Daveth, a harmless flirt with apparently a bit of a past from Denerim but he seemed nice enough. 

Everything is always in the last place you look. She had been everywhere in camp but the old temple. She went up the ramp. Far to the left there was a table and a few servants milling about, to the right was another ramp. She went up it and saw man in mage robes talking to another man, a warrior from his build, armor and weapons, about her age, with short dark blond hair, rather handsome in an unassuming sort of way. By process of elimination, that had to be Alistair. She walked towards them. 

8.2 Alistair 

Alistair for his part was only dimly aware that someone had walked up during the conversion with the mage, but now that was done, he was able to turn his full attention to them. 

The 'them' turned out to be a 'her' and… Wow! She was simply beautiful, long dark hair, blue gray eyes like the sky before a storm. And then she smiled… WOW! It felt like he had gotten hit square in the chest, for all the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He'd seen pretty girls and even beautiful women before but… not like her. She was simply beautiful and built too. While they were talking, he had sneaked a peak… okay maybe two… or three and… wow! He had never really… noticed someone like that… had them affect him like that. 

As they talked and he discovered that she was smart had a sense of humor too. She asked questions, good questions and even asked about him. He wasn't used to talking about himself, not comfortable with it really. Never done it before. 

But other more important things to talk of and hopefully much more time for jokes and good natured teasing and… maybe… other stuff. Now there was the joining and she may not… no, he really didn't want to think about that. He definitely didn't want Duncan to know he was… he didn't even know what… really… and he especially didn't want her to know… whatever it was. 

They started to meet up with Duncan. He was to go with the recruits, watch and evaluate and keep them out of trouble. He had to admit he hoped she did well, and he hoped… really hoped… she made it. 

8.3 Kathryn 

To Kathryn’s great surprise, Alistair was actually better looking up close or maybe it was the glint in the eyes and the half cocked smile. He was different, so unlike what she was expecting. Somewhat reluctantly they started to make their way back to Duncan. 

She wondered how could anyone be so unintentionally charming? She was so used to polished, practiced and refined charm. Lines used and perfected till they had lost all meaning. His simple and almost awkward sincerity was unexpected and… nice… really nice. 

She liked him, not like that… not really… but he was rather handsome. It was just that talking to him had been the first time she had felt at all like herself, felt alive again. The numbness was still there, the emptiness and pain but there had been laughter and a bit of joy to put back. It hurt in a way, but it was a good kind of hurt, it felt like something broken inside was healing. 

Chapter 9: The Wilds 

9.1 Alistair 

Alistair's part in all this was to make sure that the recruits didn't accidentally stumble into the bulk of the hoard and to observe them in action. Duncan felt that they would act differently with Alistair than with him, be more themselves. Duncan wanted to see how they worked as group, their demeanor in a fight, leadership, etc. He wanted them exposed to darkspawn before the battle and to know how they reacted to them. 

Alistair also knew that Duncan… wasn't doing as well as he let on. Along with hearing the call and the other mental aspects, there were physical symptoms too. Alistair knew it was taking a toll on him. He did what he could, whatever Duncan asked of him he would do. 

He was just glad that he could now sense the darkspawn and go with the recruits to watch and keep them out of trouble. When you can sense them, that is when you are considered a 'real' Grey Warden. Although taking the joining, not passing it but just taking it was enough. They honored those that fell as Grey Wardens. 

Duncan had warned him not to get too close to the recruits, that it was best to not get to know them, not to spend time with them before the joining. He had noticed that was a rule most of the Grey Wardens followed. When he first came to the compound before his joining the rest of the Grey Wardens hardly spoke to him, barely acknowledged he was there. He thought perhaps it was something about him, wouldn't be the first time. But once he had passed his joining, they all had come up to him, introduced themselves, congratulated him and welcomed him with heartfelt words and warm smiles. And after watching one of the other recruits die right in front of him, he had understood. 

First thing was who took charge. He figured the knight would start giving orders but after a long moment, Kathryn just assumed control. She started walking to the gate and the other two followed. She didn't fight for it, didn't demand it. She just took it as almost her right with the confidence and authority of one expecting to be obeyed, and obeyed without question. Maybe she was a teyrn's daughter, he thought. 

As they passed through the gate, it occurred to him that with two rogues in the party he would have to take a more aggressive role than he normally did, which was fine with him. Sword and shield warriors never got any respect. All the warriors wanted to carry the big two handed weapons. 

One reason was that just about any warrior can pick up the basics of sword and shield rather quickly. It isn't hard to figure out how to strike with the one and block with the other, which is why they give them to your average solider. Two handed weapons take more training, practice and talent to get the hang of, which is why normally only knights or very talented warriors get the time and training necessary to use them. But as one of his templar trainers had told him, once you do, it is a simple matter to advance. It just takes practice, a lot of it but it gets easier as you go. It is not such a simple thing to get really good at sword and shield. To master it takes not only time and practice but constant training, a talent for it and a lot of it and intelligence. It gets harder and harder to advance as you get better and better. But someone really good at sword and shield can defeat just about anyone, even a master of two handed weapons. 

The trainer had told Alistair that he had the talent to be good, really good, exceptional even. One of the few good things any of the trainers ever said to him. Mostly they just told him to stop fooling around but he had remembered that and started to take the training somewhat seriously and he had gotten better, a lot better. 

But for the most part sword and shield were thought of defensively. The ones to hold the line while the two handed attacked and led the charge. This could be interesting. 

9.2 Alistair 

After surviving a wolf attack right outside the gate, they found a scouting party that had been decimated by darkspawn. They found one surviving solider. Kathryn offered to take him back to camp but he said that he could make it back if they could bandage him up. He was glad to see that in addition to everything else, she was also kind. 

Ser Jory started to panic, while both Daveth and Kathryn seemed fine. They all got Ser Jory calmed down. He hadn't expected the knight to panic, but just proved you can never know. Then just past the scouting party they ran into darkspawn. He was glad to see that despite Ser Jory being somewhat pale, he attacked the darkspawn without reservation. 'Courage is not acting without fear but in spite of fear.' Ser Jory didn't seem to lack any of that. 

As Alistair charged, he could hear the arrows whistle by him. One melee fighter got past them, he heard Kathryn call out. "Got this one. Go!" His reaction was instinctual. He could try to rationalize it, act like he was thinking it through, but it really came down to did he trust her or not. He kept going without looking back. 

As they fought through the wilds, he was impressed with Ser Jory's skill, he could see that the darkspawn unnerved him but he trusted in his training and talents as a warrior and his nerves seemed to steady as they continued on. Daveth seemed very calm under pressure and under fire with impressive bow skills and handy with blade too. Both played their allotted roles well. 

Kathryn was... a marvel, doing whatever needed done, adjusting and adapting to the situation. At long range her aim was not as precise as Daveth's but sure. She was more comfortable with her daggers. She fought in the thick of the action, alongside him, not like most rogues who stayed on the edges of the battle. She concentrated on those not focused on her, attacking from the back and side. More and more he would look over an opponent's shoulder to see her behind them. He began to see that the more the enemies focused on him, the more effective she was, they both were, in fact. He would make his assessment of the enemies, plan his attack and then execute. Whatever it was, he didn't have to tell her but somehow she seemed to understand intuitively. His strikes became easier, more accurate, deadlier. But he had to watch out for her, had to take the brunt of the damage, keep them off her, let them concentrate on him. She was more vulnerable to a direct attack, and if an opponent with heavier armor targeted her, she was in trouble. But this arrangement they seemed to be developing, had possibilities and it was actually rather… fun. 

As they walked on, Kathryn was hit with a blast of magic. "What…was…?!" she said. 

"Emissary!" Alistair yelled as he started to run towards it. 

"What?" She cried after him. 

"Darkspawn mage!" He said. 

"Daveth, pin it!" She yelled. 

"On it!" Daveth took aim and arrow went straight through its lower leg, stopping it in its tracks. Alistair could see a couple genlocks to his left but kept going. Just as he got to the bridge the emissary worked free and turned and ran. There were more darkspawn on the other side. Arrows flew, as they got off the bridge Ser Jory got caught in a leg trap. 

Alistair kept going despite realizing that he was completely cut off from the rest. The emissary turned and cast, Alistair couldn't get to him in time and the fireball went by him. He took the next shot from the staff and then bashed him to the ground, but he could feel the two behind him. He struck the emissary and felt the hits on his flank. 

Alistair hit it again. If he let up, it could cast another fireball. An arrow whistled past his head and struck the emissary, not much damage but it got its attention. Then he felt the darkspawn behind him disappear. He struck with his shield, one more bash and then a follow up thrust and he ran it through. He used the shield to dislodge it from the sword. He turned. 

Kathryn was standing behind him, fighting another hurlock who immediately turned its attention to Alistair. She ducked down and let it go past her. It struck out at him, Alistair blocked the blow as she spun and buried both daggers into its back. With a quick nod, he let her know he was fine. Then together they ran back to where Ser Jory and Daveth were fighting. Within moments the rest of the darkspawn were dead. 

From there they could see the remains of the tower. As they approached the archers started firing. Alistair and Ser Jory started to attack. "Wait." She called. She could see the archers on either side and more melee in the middle, if they charged they would be attacked from three sides. Here the archers didn't have a good line of sight. The two warriors stopped. "Daveth, focus on melee. Draw them out." They started firing. The melee fighters attacked. 

Alistair and Ser Jory looked at each other as they approached. When they were nearly in striking distance, Alistair said "Go." He hit the first one, while Ser Jory stepped up and struck the second. Kathryn watched as the warriors attacked and thanked the Maker they had enough sense to attack. Daveth and her were now focused on the other archers and then she saw the… whatever it was. It had heavier armor than any of the others and was heading for them. 

Kathryn pulled out her daggers. "Keep hitting it till within melee range and then run." 

Daveth took aim and answered "Don't have to tell me twice." Alistair saw the alpha and saw that it was heading for the two rogues. He pushed the hurlock back and ran after the alpha. It took at swing at Kathryn as she tried to get a strike in, but the armor was too heavy her blade glanced off and she was hit and knocked back. 

Alistair charged it, interrupting its follow up strike and knocking it down. It then turned to him, she got back up and hit it quick, from the back and sides she could see and exploit the weakness in the armor. He blocked the next blow and then lashed out with a strike from the shield and two from sword. It fell. As they stood over the body he couldn't help but say "I think we work well together." And she smiled. 

They quickly dispatched the remaining archers. They entered the fallen tower. In the middle there was a broken chest, Kathryn went to examine it. 

Chapter 10: Ostagar 

10.1 The Joining 

Well, getting the treaties had been… interesting. Alistair thought. They hadn't been in the chest but in the possession of a resident of the wilds. Daveth, who had faced the darkspawn without flinching suddenly got nervous around what he thought was a 'witch of the wilds'. Whether she was or not, didn't matter, they had the treaties and the blood, now there was the joining. 

He led all three of them to the old temple, while Duncan collected what they needed for the ritual. He was nervous. He tried not to be. He hoped, truly hoped, that they all made it… but he really wanted Kathryn to survive. And the way his luck usually ran that meant that she probably wouldn’t… but then again, maybe not. Things had been turning around for him. He had gotten recruited, survived his own joining, so maybe… he could at least hope. 

He wanted to say something to her. He really didn't know what. He tried to think about what would have made him feel better before his joining. He had been terrified, not of dying, templar training works that out of you, or maybe you just figure dying would be better. But he had been terrified of failing, of disappointing Duncan. He had risked so much to help him and then for it all to be for nothing… and he thought that a very real possibility. 

He couldn't imagine the Maker being happy that he didn't want to be a templar. No doubt if it was up to the Grand Cleric he wouldn't even get to take the joining but get hit by lighting on the spot. Although that would be a mercy, getting struck by lighting would be better than failing the joining. The recruit before him… didn't make it. After he fell, Alistair didn't even wait for Duncan to call his name but stepped forward and took the cup. Better to get it over with, and at least if he did die he wanted to do it with some courage. 

It was like what he imagined swallowing fire or acid would be like, but worse for that would only burn your mouth and throat. The joining burns through your whole body from the inside out and then when you don't think you can stand much more pain, you pass out. At least, the ones who survive pass out. It seems the body reacts by shutting down till it can somehow deal with the poison. The ones that don't… die. But he also figured out that it is the joining that kills them. The taint by itself kills but slowly. The joining is a mercy. If your body proves it can't take it, it kills you. 

He didn't know what to say but as it turned out it didn't matter. She had left them (to check on a dog, it seemed?) and arrived too late. He didn't have a chance to say anything. Even good luck, not that luck had anything to do with it. 

At Duncan's request, he said the words and then Daveth took the cup and died before them. Ser Jory panicked and pulled a sword on Duncan and bled to death on the stone. Duncan turned to Kathryn and she took the cup. 

Alistair watched as she drank and then he could see the pain and then her body went limp. He wasn't about to let her fall to the stone and stepped forward and caught her. Duncan had also stepped forward but he had been faster. He saw the look in Duncan's eyes but didn't know what it meant. As gently as he could, he laid her back upon the ground. Duncan knelt down beside her. Alistair stood watching. They waited. It wouldn't be long. 

10.2 Duncan 

Duncan watched as Kathryn took the cup with reservation but not fear. He had seen so many that he could tell almost immediately who was going to live and who was going to die. And she… was going to make it. Her body went limp. He stepped forward to catch her. But to his surprise Alistair got to her first. He watched as he gently laid her on the stone. 

Obviously more had happened in the wilds than collecting blood and retrieving treaties, he thought. He had thought that her and Alistair may make good partners and perhaps he had been more right than he had suspected, but he wanted to watch the situation. They were both vulnerable and if it went badly the damage might be irreparable, but then again if it went well… 

She began to stir and then opened her eyes. He welcomed her to the Grey Wardens and then asked her to join him in a meeting with the king. he knew that there should be more but time was slipping by. Both he and Alistair turned to walk away. He thought to say something to Alistair, but decided against it. Now was not the time. 

10.3 Alistair 

Alistair walked through the camp and back to Duncan's fire. He hated that Daveth and Ser Jory had not made it, but he was glad, that at least, Kathryn had survived. Now it was alright for him to… like her, and to hope for more conversations and more teasing and even more… flirting? Wait, was that flirting? Had she actually been flirting… with him? Boy, he hoped so… he really hoped so… because if she was… but he couldn't think about that right now. 

He also hoped that Duncan would forget about him giving his observations on the recruits. With two of them… gone, it didn't matter so much and he didn't want to accidentally gush about her. If he talked too well of her, Duncan might think that he… not that he didn't... but if Duncan knew that, he might not want them to fight together. Somehow, he had to figure out how to mention about how well they had worked together in the wilds, because they really had, without being obvious about it. 

As he passed by two knights, he overheard something about Highever and slowed down to listen. From what he could gather it seemed that the entire Cousland family including the Teyrn and the rest of the household, had been murdered. That the only survivor of the massacre was the daughter who had been recruited into the Grey Wardens. Dear Maker! She WAS a teyrn's daughter! 

He could barely imagine having a family much less losing them like that. She must be incredibly strong to be able to continue on like she is, to be able to focus on the Blight and not blindly seek revenge on whoever was responsible. 

But that also meant that she was a noble and he was a bastard and while that wasn't supposed to matter to Grey Wardens, it wasn't supposed to matter to templars either, but it had. Add to that, the only thing he knew about women was that he didn't know anything at all. And now that she was a Grey Warden, she would be introduced to the rest of them and as soon as they got a look at her, saw that smile and got a taste of her spirit and sense of humor, they would all want to be 'friends' with her, if not more. She would have her pick of anyone she wanted... why would she want... but he shouldn't be thinking about these things now. He should be getting himself ready to participate in the battle. 

10.4 Duncan 

"What? I won't be in the battle!" Alistair said. Duncan could see his disappointment. But the king had asked that Alistair, specifically, be sent to light the beacon. He tried to frame it as an important mission, key to the success of the battle, but he knew that Alistair was being kept out of the battle because if something happened to Cailan, he was next in line to the throne. Cailan insisted on fighting on the front line. Perhaps, as many, himself included, thought he wanted to be the hero, but he was beginning to wonder. 

Cailan planning for the possibility that he could die in this battle, was so uncharacteristic of the overly, if not reckless, confidence he had displayed up until this point, that it had caused Duncan to reconsider his opinion of Cailan. Perhaps he wasn't a child playing the part of king, and overdoing it, maybe he understood his role and responsibilities but simply didn't know how to fulfill them. Even five years into his reign, he seemed so ill-prepared for this role, lacking the talent and skills Duncan had seen in Maric. 

Duncan had known Maric, considered him a friend, but he had meet him as a man and a king. Those skills Maric had learned through the fires of war. Unfortunately, they were not things Maric had taught or perhaps knew how to teach Cailan. He hoped that Cailan would learn in a similar fashion thought the trials of the Blight. He just hoped he learned quickly. 

Kathryn was also disappointed, for her to have gone through all she had to get here and then to be sent on what amounted to an errand was seemingly unfair. But Duncan had little choice. She was the more junior member and if Alistair was sent to light the beacon and she participated in the battle, it would raise many questions that no one wanted to answer. 

In a way he was glad they were out of the battle, he wanted them to survive, to outlive this Blight as he knew and even hoped that he would not but he had to admit that he would have felt better with them on the field with him. 

"You are both Grey Wardens, I expect you to be worthy of that title." Not that he had any worries about them, but they were young and not happy about their allotted roles. He didn't need them trying to be a hero. 

"Duncan, may the Maker watch over you." Alistair said quietly. 

"May he watch over us all." Duncan said. He wanted to say something else, but there was nothing he could say, nothing to say. He turned and walked to the battlefield. 

10.5 Alistair 

Alistair remembered his first night at the monastery, laying for the first time in the bed he would sleep in for the next ten years, staring up at the cracks in the stones. 

They had arrived late, after everyone was already in bed. The brother that answered the door had obviously been awakened from a deep sleep and wanted nothing more to get back to it. He didn't ask his name but led Alistair to this bed and told him to go to sleep. 

He laid there starting at the ceiling shedding tears not of sadness or fear but of rage. He was simply too exhausted from the trip and trying to runaway to scream. They had dragged him back to the carriage, time and time again, him screaming each time to be let go. What did it matter to them? "You'll thank us for this one day." That day had yet to come, he thought. He laid there, not knowing a soul in the building in the entire city, only a brother who no doubt barely remembered him and probably thought the whole thing had been a bad dream. For Alistair it was. He reached for his amulet, his mother's amulet but it wasn't there. He had been so angry, he had thrown it at the wall and it had shattered. Now when he died and went to the side of the Maker, his mother wouldn't be able to find him. He was alone, completely alone. It was the most alone he had ever felt… until now. 

He stood at the edge of the water looking out into nothing. He remembered the tower, the beacon and how it had been overrun by darkspawn. That should have tipped him off that something was wrong, but he wasn't able to think through the implications. Not that it would have mattered, even if he had realized what was going on. There was nothing he could have done to stop it. He couldn’t have saved them, not any of them. By then, it was already too late. 

Kathryn and him had fought their way to the top of the tower and discovered an ogre. The mage that had come with them hit it several times before he was rammed. Then the ogre turned its attention to him. He had hit it several times till he got rammed and knocked down. Kathryn had distracted it till he had been able to get up and she had gotten grabbed up for her trouble. The ogre hit her. He had to free her somehow. There was no way she could take any more of those. He bashed it hard and it let her go. She fell to the ground. It turned to him and rammed him backwards. He got up and bashed it again, spinning it and stunning it. He fell to a knee. He saw Kathryn get to her feet and look up. "Now! Go for the head!" he yelled. Without the slightest hesitation she broke into a run and jumped on the ogre, hitting it square in the chest and knocking it back to the ground. She drove her dagger into its forehead. It jerked and then was still. 

They lit the beacon just before a group of darkspawn attacked them. He saw Kathryn fall hard, hit by many arrows at once, blood pouring out of her. He fought to get to her but he was soon overwhelmed and then everything went black. 

He had woken up to find Morrigan's mother watching him. "What…What's…?" 

"Easy, young man. You had quite the ordeal. But you are safe now." She said. He could feel the magic running through him. Templar training made him suspect any magic of being harmful or even blood magic but he could tell that this was just normal healing, normal but very powerful. He looked around he was back at the hut they had visited to retrieve the treaties. 

"What am I doing here?" He asked. 

"Healing from your wounds, which were severe I might add." She said. 

"How... did I get here?" He asked. 

"I brought you... from the tower." She said. 

"The tower… darkspawn overwhelmed…us…" He suddenly looked up to her. "Kathryn?" He said not really expecting an answer he wanted to hear. 

"The girl? Yes, she is here too. She is still resting but she will be fine, as will you." She said. "I cannot say the same for the rest of your order." 

"What… what do you mean?" Alistair said alarmed. 

"There was no charge. The army retreated instead. The darkspawn overwhelmed the field, slaughtering all there. The king and all of the other Grey Wardens, they are all dead." She said simply. 

"No, they can't be. The Teyrn wouldn't just abandoned them. It isn't possible." He said in disbelief. 

"I assure you it is. They all perished." She said. 

"You don't know that… can't know that for sure." He said grasping. 

"I do. All that are left of your order are you and the girl." She said as a simple truth. 

"Duncan?" He nearly whispered. 

"I do not know the name but if he was on the field, he is now dead." She said. 

"He can't be!" Grief and anger boiled up and threatened to overwhelm him. 

"And why would I lie?" She asked without anger. 

He looked at her. "There must be some… some who survived." He said desperately. 

"Very few and long gone but no Grey Wardens." She answered. 

"No, it's not possible… that they… are… all… gone." He sat back and put his head in his hands. 

She got up and said "Your things are there in the chest. When you are able get dressed and come to the fire. We have much to discuss when the girl awakens." She then turned to go. 

"She won't." He said, voice unsteady. 

She looked at him eyes slightly wide. "You doubt me after all I have done." 

He looked up to her. "I saw her fall… saw the blood. She couldn't survive that." He put his head back in his hands. She left him. 

Now, he continued to stare over the water and into nothing. All dead, all of them. Just gone. No good-bye's, no pyres, no words, no nothing, just... gone. He knew any of them could die in battle but… all of them? And Duncan too… at least he had died fighting the Blight, but not like this… betrayed… murdered… just left to die. Why? 

Not that it mattered, not that he cared, nothing could justify this. Leaving them and the rest of the army to be massacred by darkspawn. The grief was a deep blackness that permeated every inch of him, swallowing all the light. And along with the grief, there was now a quiet rage building. He would pay for this. By the Maker! He would pay. 

But... the Blight… there was still the Blight and now he had to try to defeat it alone. He would try… he would have to. The weight of it… the intense responsibility engulfed him… he felt like he was drowning in it… he didn't know what to do or where to go… there was no one for him to even talk to… he was alone… he was completely… 

"See, here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man." Morrigan's mother said. He turned from the water to see Kathryn walk out of the hut. She was fine, looked… fine. 

He wasn't alone. The blackness had held him lost a bit of its grip and he saw one small light, a tiny bit of hope and he grabbed it and held onto it with all he had. 

He wasn't alone. 

10.6 Kathryn 

Morrigan had told Kathryn that the Teyrn had retreated leaving all on the battlefield to die. The king, the Grey Wardens all were dead. Somehow she wasn't even surprised by it all. Maybe given all she had been through, nothing about the evil of men surprised her anymore. Or perhaps she had been expecting something like this. Well, not this, no one could have ever suspected the Teyrn of this, but something. 

She had been at that meeting, something wasn't right... and the darkspawn being in the tower... but there had been the beacon and even if she had realized what was happening, she couldn't have stopped it. 

Apparently Morrigan's mother had saved them. Although she wasn't sure why. Perhaps as Morrigan said they were the only ones she could reach being on the tower and not on the battlefield, but still… She got up and slowly got dressed. She wanted to check on Alistair. He couldn't be taking this well. 

She opened the door to the hut and walked outside. The light hurt her eyes for a moment then her vision adjusted. She saw Alistair at the edge of the water. She could tell he was not doing good, stunned and hurting. No doubt she looked much the same after the attack on the castle, the pain, shock and grief running through him. But at least there were two of them. 

They talked, sorted through their options and resources. The Arl of Redcliffe, Alistair knew him. It was a place to start, and then there were the treaties. Could they really do this, gather an army and defeat the blight? They could try. But it wasn't like they had a choice, if they didn't, there wasn't anyone else who could. 

Flemeth, for that was what she said to call her, offered up Morrigan. Alistair clearly didn't like her but they needed a guide and, in truth, all the help they could get. She hoped this didn't turn into a bad idea. 

Morrigan lead them through the wilds and past the hoard toward a small village called Lothering. Alistair hadn't said three words since leaving the hut. She remembered Duncan saying how each person had to find their own way through their grief. He seemed to have lost a part of himself. She could understand, but she hoped he could find it again. They hadn't had time to get close, barely knew each other really. She wasn't sure what to do but give him some time. 

He didn't even get to say good-bye. At least, she thought, I got to say good-bye. 

Chapter 11: Lothering Part I 

11.1 Leliana 

Leliana stepped out of the chantry and into the garden. She needed some air. During the night she had experienced a terrible nightmare, like nothing she had ever had before. She had awoken in a panic, bathed in a cold sweat. As the dawn light grew, she forced herself to dress and then made her way to the garden. She went there every morning, to tend the plants and to be filled with the light and beauty of the Maker's world, but today she knew she would find no such solace. A terror had settled in to the core of her being like a deep chill no amount of light or warmth could touch. 

All she could think was how all this would be destroyed by the Blight. That everything she saw would soon be desolate and lifeless, diseased and corrupted. Death or worse awaited them all, and nothing could be done. It was too much to bear. How could the Maker allow such a thing? How could this be the Maker's will? He loved his children and she knew in her heart this to be so, but then how could he allow such suffering to his people and such destruction of this world? 

She had tended to all those as best she could, the refugees and survivors of the battle. She could do little but listen and offer comfort, but to so many none was to be had. She heard their stories, of monsters, powerful, unrelenting, unstoppable, tearing though villages and people, without mercy, destroying all, even poisoning the very earth itself. “What could stand against such a force? Why has the Maker abandoned us?" they had asked "What hope can there be?" She had no answer. 

She looked out over the garden, most had been harvested, collected and given to those in need, gathered to be taken away. What remained were the plants and trees. They were doomed but they didn't know it. Despair, heavy and thick enveloped her, the very air seemed full of it. She wanted to cry but knew it would not help. It would not make her feel any better, nothing would. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the rose bush in the corner of the garden. At least it had escaped the Blight, it was dead. But just there, a flash of color. It seemed there was something on it. A bird, perhaps, had become caught in its gnarled thorny vines. She would try to free it. A bird had a chance to escape, at least for a while. She would not leave it trapped to watch its own death and the destruction of its home. 

But as he approached she realized, it was not a bird but a... rose. A perfect, beautiful, fully-bloomed rose, growing from the bush. She stared in amazement and felt herself being filled with hope. If this, this beauty, could come from such death and decay, then perhaps there was hope even in this darkest of situations. If this could happen, then did that show that you could no longer assume that any situation was truly hopeless? 

She had allowed herself to succumb to despair. She had failed the Maker by not trusting in him. She had not kept faith in him and believed. She would not make such a mistake again. She knelt down in prayer. Thanking the Maker for this sign, for restoring her faith, for all of the Maker's blessings. She stood and looked over the garden, she was no longer afraid. There was hope, there was always hope. She turned to leave, knowing she would never return. 

She thought to take the rose with her, as a reminder of the Maker's love, but... no. It had served its purpose, it had restored her faith. In a sense she would always carry that rose with her. She would leave it for another to find. Perhaps it would mean something to someone else, restore their faith or give them some measure of solace or comfort. Perhaps the Maker had another purpose for it to fulfill. 

She must go to the tavern. Many there still needed help and she must do what she could, but she thought there must be more she could do. She had... skills. Skills that could be useful in fighting darkspawn and defeating a Blight, no? 

But she would trust in the Maker to show her the path he wished for her to walk. She would wait and watch for some sign, some indication of what she was to do. It would come. She was sure of it in fact. 

11.2 Ser Gilmore 

Ser Gilmore took up his position by the wall. He was watching the refugees pouring into Lothering, hoping for… he didn't know what. A sign, perhaps? Something, some indication of what he should do. He prayed and waited. He had been here for several days now, not sure what he was looking for, what to do, where to go. He tried to think, but it was difficult to sort through all that had happened. At times he didn't even remember where he was or why he was here, who or what he was looking for… 

After leaving the castle he had escaped into the nearby woods, and that's when the pain in his head started, or at least when he began to notice it. A dull ache that grew in severity till it was nearly blinding. He became nauseous and dizzy, his vision was blurry, every sound seemed to echo in his head. He wandered in the woods most of the night till he finally collapsed. 

When he woke it was day. The light was like daggers through his head. He didn't remember where he was or why he was there. He finally found his way out of the woods and to a small village. He tried to talk to a woman but his speech was slurred to the point she couldn't understand him. Then he felt someone, two someones grab him. One on each arm and forcibly but gently escort him into a building and then a small, dark room and lay him on a bed. Liquids were put to his lips and he drank them. He felt the cold water wiping away the blood, both his and others. He slept. 

When he awoke, he was in his small clothes and his head was bandaged. A woman in a chantry robe opened the door. She had a small candle with her and a basket with potions and bandages. She shut the door behind her. "How's the headache?" 

"Better." He said. 

"Must be, you aren't slurring your words anymore. That or you've sobered up." He realized that he was nearly naked and reached for the blanket. "Oh, don't bother. I raised four sons to adulthood, had two husbands and have tended to more soldiers than I care to count. Nothing I haven't seen before, trust me." 

She knelt down next to the bed. She took the candle and looked into his eyes. Satisfied, she took out a potion and gave it to him. He drank it. She examined his head, removing the bandage. "Not much more I can do for that. It will leave a mark but the swelling should be gone in a few days." He nodded. 

"Do you remember what happened to you?" He had to think. It was like looking back through a fog. There were bits and pieces. He started to shake his head and then he remembered… the castle had been attacked… Howe's men… the gate failing… the fire pit… He looked up to the woman. "At least you remember. You escaped the castle, no?" He nodded. "We thought as much. You are safe here. But Howe's men came by looking for you. Not you specifically, no description just anyone badly injured. So they could 'help' them. You're lucky the templars brought you to me." 

"I have to get to Ostagar." He said. 

She nodded. "It will be dawn soon. You'll eat and I'll pack you some supplies for the trip. You'll need money too. I'll look in the donation box. Your armor is in the corner. Can you manage?" 

"Yes." He said. She got up and started to walk out of the room. "The revered mother doesn't know I'm here." He said quietly. 

She stopped and turned back to him, with a smile she said. "No, she doesn't, so try not to make too much noise. She is a bit hard of hearing but just a bit." 

"Why help me?" He asked. 

She smiled. "When they brought you here, you were praying. Thanking the Maker that 'they' had escaped and praying that 'she' was safe. In the state you were in, a lesser man would have been praying for himself. You deserve more than my help but it is all I can offer. That and my own hope and prayers that the Maker watch over you, and guide to whatever fate he has for you." 

The journey had been difficult. He still suffered painful headaches. The harsh daylight nearly blinded him, while bouts of dizziness came and went. Then he would forget where he was going or why for hours at a time. He had arrived in Lothering about the same time as the first reports of the disaster at Ostagar. 

The army destroyed. The king dead. The Grey Wardens blamed and all of them dead too. His plan had always been to find Kathryn or if not her, Fergus and then the Grey Wardens. But they were all gone. It was almost too much to bear for her to have escaped the castle just to die in the battle. The grief at times had been overwhelming. He hadn't realized how much the fact that she had survived had driven him, had given him something to hold on to. Now, he was lost. 

He had listened, gathering as much information as he could, trying to understand and trying to figure out what he should do, where he should go. While he was getting better, he was still having trouble concentrating, making a decision seemed just beyond him. At times he would think he had decided on a course of action but couldn't remember what it was. He went from a near blind fury to crippling depression to nerve-wracking anxiety and back. And now he simply waited and prayed. 

His faith had always been important to him and now he held to it. He prayed, hoping for a sign. "If the Maker wills, join us." Duncan had said. He had survived and there must be a reason, there had to be… he just had to be ready for it. "If the Maker wills…" He bowed his head and began to pray. 

"Dear Maker, I know that I was spared for a reason. That you have a plan and purpose for me to fulfill. Please show me what it is that I am supposed to do, where it is that I am supposed to go. I want only to help, to defeat the Blight and revenge those killed without mercy or reason. Please, dear Maker, I only ask to be shown what it is that I am supposed to do." 

11.3 Kathryn 

This is just getting better and better, she thought. She had just told some bandits taking 'tolls' on the highway to Lothering to leave and leave quickly. But they had told her that the Teyrn was blaming the Grey Wardens for the disaster at Ostagar and that there was now a bounty on their heads. Just add it to the list of problems they had. 

Then as they descended the ramp into the village itself, she discovered that she could also add to that list the fact that Alistair and Morrigan didn't get along. And it wasn't just a personality conflict or the fact that she was an apostate and he a former templar but true deep dislike seemingly stemming from the fact that she thought he was stupid, which he wasn't, and he thought she was mean, which she was. 

Perhaps she should not expect someone raised in a swamp to be able to interact with people or know when to be quiet, and anyone who said they would laugh at the death of anyone, much less their mother, was not someone she wanted around. She was tempted to thank her for getting them out of the wilds and allow her to go back to the wilds where both Morrigan and Alistair wanted her to be. But Father had also told her that even people you don't like can be useful and to not make decisions you cannot easily take back without a great deal of thought. The simple fact was that they did need all the help they could get. 

Alistair wanted to talk about where they intended to go. As they went over their options, she realized that while he was given her information and choices and even a suggestion or two, he wasn't stating an opinion or making any kind of decision himself. While he had been a junior member of the order and a Grey Warden for only a few months, now he was the most senior Grey Warden in Ferelden. She had only been a Grey Warden for a time that could easily be marked in days. 

He can't do it. She realized, can't make the decisions, take control, take command, not now. He isn't able, she thought. I'm not sure I could have the day after the attack. But it was more than that. He had been trained as a templar, to do what he was told, to obey without question. In fact, he wasn't even a templar but an initiate before being recruited which meant that he couldn't be over twenty-one years old. He was younger than she was, not by much perhaps but significantly. She was not the same person two years ago that she was now. Father was going to leave her in charge of the castle and of Highever. He wouldn't have done that two years ago. One day, no doubt, he could step into this role or any other of leadership or responsibility, but not now. He isn't ready. But she was raised her entire life to be a teyrn, trained to rule, to command, to make decisions that affected all, and to lead. 

"Our family has always done our duty first." She heard her father say. "The Blight must be defeated. You must go, for your own sake as well as Ferelden's… She will live and make her mark on the world…You do us proud." 

"I will, Father, for you." She had said. She looked away and closed her eyes. 

There had been that numbness that had allowed her to function after the attack, but maybe that wasn't exactly what that had been. At first perhaps, but now had it turned into an ability to ignore those emotions, an ability to set them aside and think and act outside of personal feelings. Maybe it was… maturity. In that calm, that dead calm, in the center of her being there was clarity, an ability to take all into account, to feel and think at the same time. She had seen that calm, that steadiness in Father, earned through experience, and suffering. Her emotions were still there but tempered, and there was focus… an ability to focus on her duty to the Grey Wardens, to Ferelden, to her family, and to herself. 

I can do this, she thought but more importantly, she felt it, she believed it. She began to nod her head and when she looked back to Alistair everything had changed. 

Chapter 12: Lothering Part II 

12.1 Kathryn 

They walked into the village. It was packed with refugees. They needed supplies and most likely there was a bit of coin to be made here. With a bounty on their heads they couldn't expect any money they didn't earn themselves and they would need as much as they could get. She still had what had been in the castle's treasury but it wouldn't be enough. 

As they walked towards the chantry board, Drake suddenly stopped, cocked his head to the side and sniffed the air a couple times. He then barked at her. Kathryn turned to him. He barked again making sure he had her attention and then started trotting over to the far end of the chanty's courtyard wall. She followed him and saw that the object of his interest was a man in armor sitting with his head bowed. Drake stood in front of the man and barked. The man looked up. 

"Roland!" She called out and began to run towards him. There was only a moment's hesitation before she decided to ignore all codes of noble conduct and decorum and threw her arms around him, hugging him hard. 

"Kath… My lady… I…" He said and then became overwhelmed. 

"Oh, dear Maker… I am so… happy to see you… I thought…" She said. Then her expression changed to one of concern. "Are you alright?" She asked. 

"I… have… been better... am better now." He said with effort. "…and I will heal." 

"Did anyone… else…" She asked. 

"No… they didn't… I'm sorry." He said. She winced and looked away for a moment, but then turned back to him, and smiled. He said. "I was afraid that with the battle, you had…" 

"No, we were lucky." She said. 

"We? Fergus? You found Fergus?" He asked. 

"No, he was gone before I got to Ostagar. He was not in the battle, so perhaps, but… I have no idea where he may be." She said. 

"Duncan?" He asked. 

"As far as we know, he… didn't survive the battle." She said. Roland nodded sadly. 

"I was afraid when I saw the Teyrna that perhaps he hadn't made it out." He said. 

"No, she… stayed with Father. Duncan helped me escape. And… I became a Grey Warden." She said. 

He smiled widely. "I knew he would want to recruit you. He'd have been a fool not to. Then it seems we both were recruited, as I had hop…" He said and then stopped. 

"Recruited? I don't…" She asked. 

"We fought together briefly during the attack and before he left to find you, he offered me a place with the Grey Wardens. I had... have every intention of accepting and doing all I can to stop the Blight and seeing that Howe pays for what he has done. If you will only permit me to come with you. I have not fully recovered from the injuries I sustained in the attack but I will soon and I admit there is no place I would rather be than fighting at your side." He said with warmth. 

"Yes, of course, please. There is no way I would allow you do to anything else but join us, as long as you are able… and there is nothing that would make me… but there is one condition." She said. 

He looked curiously, "And that would be?" 

"That you never call me 'my lady' again. It's just 'Kathryn' like before." She said. 

"As long as you never call me 'Ser Gilmore' again, we have a deal." He said. 

12.2 Alistair 

Alistair had seen the dog's actions and when he ran to the wall where a man was sitting, he had the fleeting thought that it might be Duncan. But the red hair quickly dispelled that idea. He thought that it might be Fergus Cousland, who he had never seen nor heard described, but then he heard Kathryn call out what he thought was a name. At least the man reacted as if it was. He stayed back, not wanting to interrupt their reunion but close enough to overhear. 

Kathryn was obviously happy to see him, overjoyed really. For 'Roland's' part, he seemed very fond of her too. It seemed that he was at the castle when it was attacked and had somehow escaped. He asked of Duncan, then it occurred to him that he must have been the recruit the Teyrn had invited Duncan to look at. The reason Duncan was at Highever in the first place. He seemed nice enough but most important, Duncan had seen something in him to make him offer him a place within the Grey Wardens. If nothing else, Alistair respected Duncan's judgment and would be glad to have him along. They truly needed all the help they could get, especially someone who if circumstances would have been different, may also have been a Grey Warden. 

Kathryn turned to Alistair. "Roland, this is Alistair of the Grey Wardens. He was recruited over six months ago and was trained as a templar. Alistair, this is Roland, he is a knight who was in service to my… at Highever." She said. Alistair could tell that she had suddenly realized that she had not told him who she was or the circumstances of her recruitment and did not know what he knew. 

"I heard what happened. I'm very sorry." Alistair said. "But glad to have you join us." Alistair held out his hand and Roland took it. 

"Thank you." Roland said. 

12.3 Leliana 

Leliana looked up when she heard the door to the tavern open. Four people walked in. An impressive group, she thought, two women, a beautiful brunette rogue and black haired mysterious looking mage with interesting taste in clothing, and two male warriors, a nice looking although quiet sort of red head and a blond who was quite handsome in a lost puppy sort of way. 

She didn't think they were bandits and most of the survivors from the battle had come and gone, perhaps mercenaries. She hoped so, for they might be persuaded to help the people here. 

There were soldiers in the tavern, not that they had been any help. When they Teyrn had passed through they had been left behind, supposedly to look for any surviving Grey Wardens. The Teyrn had said they were responsible and declared them traitors, but she also knew few believed it. Up until this point, the soldiers had been completely occupied with their ale. Now they turned their attention to the group that had just entered. This could get ugly, she thought. 

The soldiers said they had been looking for the woman, that could only mean that she was a Grey Warden. This was it! This must be the sign that she had been waiting for! This had to be the Maker's will! For a Grey Warden to walk into this tavern, today of all days! She could help them. She knew she could, she had skills albeit they might be a bit rusty, although her archery had improved greatly since being in the chantry. She just had to convince them of that. She would try to diffuse the situation with the soldiers, but she doubted that would work. If not, she would assist them in whatever happened and prove that she was serious about accompanying them on their mission. 

As she suspected a fight ensued but it was over quickly. She was glad that the woman, the lovely brunette who seemed to be in charge, let the men go without further bloodshed. 

She quickly introduced herself and told her that she would be joining them. Perhaps she should not assume such, but they did need assistance and with her willingness to help, how could they not allow her to accompany them? Besides it was the Maker's will, his own plan and design that she help them… although perhaps she shouldn't have just come out and said it like that. She saw the hesitation, her heart fell. No, the Maker must mean for her to go with them. He must! 

As they discussed her joining them, the blond man spoke in her favor. She could see it was Kathryn's decision, but she took the blond man's opinion seriously and while unsure, Kathryn finally allowed her to come. Leliana was overjoyed. 

12.4 Alistair 

Kathryn was concluding her business with the chanter. Leliana was getting her personal belonging from the chantry. Roland was picking out a new greatsword from the merchant. Alistair was wandering around, waiting on the others when he somehow found himself in the chantry's garden. 

It was hard to imagine how you could hide a place this size in a village this small but that was the case. Most probably walked through Lothering without ever realizing it was here, hiding as it was in plain sight. Normally it would contain rows of vegetables, several fruit trees, herbs, medicinal plants, and a few flowering plants and bushes. But nearly everything useful had been stripped from it. You could nearly feel the desperation of those who had been through here. Desperation filling the empty space in a place that should be full of life. 

The others should be ready by now, he thought. He turned to go when a flash of color caught his eye. A flash of deep red in amid all the green and brown. In the far corner, there appeared to be a small bird trapped in a dead bush. He walked over to see if he could free it. But as he approached he saw that it wasn't a bird but... a... rose. A single, perfect, beautiful rose growing out of what otherwise appeared to be a dead bush. "How is that possible? How could this dead bush produce such a gorgeous living flower?" He thought. "How could something so... beautiful even exist... here in this place... filled as it was with so much despair and... ugliness." 

There was something sad and yet hopeful in seeing this rose, surviving in such a place and at such a time. Then it struck him as truth so often does, that this is why the world was worth saving. Why the sacrifices and struggles were worth it. As ugly as the world is, as unfair and cruel as it can be, and as evil as the people in it sometimes are, it is worth saving because there was the potential for such beauty, for love and joy and happiness. 

He removed his glove and reached out to touch it, just to make sure that it was real. The petals felt of velvet. He smelled it. The scent seemed to fill his lungs calling forth, as scent so often does, a memory from another happier, better time acting as a balm to his heart and spirit. He felt along the stem. The bush itself was dead. The branches dry and brittle. It was as if all the life left in the bush was focused into this one stem, this one rose. A last gasp, a last act of defiance. He smiled for the first time since awakening in the wilds. 

He started to walk away, but couldn't take his eyes off the rose. The garden had been abandoned, all else plundered and desolate. No one else probably even knew it was here. The darkspawn when they overran this place would destroy it, and it would mean nothing to them. 

Before he could even stop himself, he reached out and found the dead part of the stem and snapped it. He took out a piece of cloth from his pack and gently wrapped the rose in it and then made a place for it in his pack so that it was in no danger of getting crushed. He then ran out to where the others were waiting. 

12.5 Kathryn 

Their business now concluded, they prepared to leave Lothering and find a place to camp for the night. Roland had his new greatsword and the rest of the supplies. Leliana had returned with her few personal belongings. Alistair... appeared out of nowhere and smiled at her. The first one she had seen from him since the tower. She was glad. They started walking towards the highway. 

She was so thankful that Roland had survived, that he had made it to Lothering and that they had found each other. It seemed incredible, simply unbelievable. He had stayed behind, refusing to come with them, knowing that he would likely mean his death, so that she had a chance to escape. 

She had thought herself alone since it seemed likely that Fergus had not survived, but now, to have him along with her, meant so much. It gave her hope. With so much unknown and new, he was familiar, a stabilizing presence, his loyalty and support she knew were unquestionable. 

Leliana, while it was a bit odd to claim that she had a vision to help them, they did need help. And she had to admit, at times the Maker works in strange and unfathomable ways. The important thing was that she had skill and was willing to help them. For Kathryn that was enough. 

Morrigan… hardly knew what to think of her. Perhaps if she had been raised in a swamp and was a mage hunted by the chantry, she may act as she did. Flemeth wasn't exactly the most diplomatic person she had met and perhaps her being raised a noble with its rules and manners and subtly and proper etiquette and such made her more sensitive to such things. But making fun of someone's natural expression of grief wasn't winning Morrigan any points with her. Being direct not the same as being heartless. But she was useful, maybe if she could just keep the two of them away from each other, it might be alright. 

Also they had recruited a qunari who called himself Sten. He had been convicted of the murder of a farmhold. But there was something about him, the way he talked, of regret and remorse, and his interest in atonement and fighting against the blight. She felt that there was more to story, at least she hoped so. With Leliana's help, they had convinced the Revered Mother to release him into her custody, and as it was, they couldn't be choosy. They had retrieved his things, bought supplies and gear, did a few errands for the chantry and others and now it was time to take their leave. 

She had told Sten and Morrigan to wait by the entrance to the highway, just to minimize the potential trouble. As they left the village proper and made around the windmill, there stood a group of armed villagers. Alistair said low, "Let me guess. Welcoming committee." 

"Considering we are leaving instead of arriving, I'll vote no." Kathryn said. 

"Maybe they're just now got around to us, there are a lot of refugees…" She gave him a look. "Right, didn't think so." 

As they approached one of the villagers addressed them and on his word the mob attacked. What the villagers lacked in skill, they made up for in numbers and maces and clubs. Leliana got in a few key shots in and then switched to daggers. Alistair got the attention of most of them, but Kathryn knew he was more vulnerable to being overwhelmed by numbers. Roland while effective against such opponents was not up to his old self. She told Leliana "You take the red head." 

Leliana called out "Got him." and fell back to where he was. She had proven a good archer in fighting the bandits. Now see how good she was with a blade. 

Kathryn hit the first couple and then circled back behind Alistair. He had targeted the main mace wielder directly while the majority of the rest surrounded him. She started after the ones at his flank, picking them off. Roland and Leliana had all they could handle, but they looked like they could handle them. One by one the villagers fell, at the end they stood over the bodies of more than a dozen. 

Kathryn indicated the bodies, "What were they thinking?" 

"That they had the advantage of numbers." Alistair replied. 

"I almost feel sorry for them." She said. 

"Almost?" He said. 

"Yes… almost." She said. 

"Yeah me too." He said. 

She looked at the number of bodies behind him as opposed to in front of where he stood. "I won." She said. 

He looked to her with smile and pointed to the one villager. "But he had a mace." 

"...and…" She said. 

"I'll remember this next time you get grabbed up by a ogre." He said. 

Roland and Leliana walked up. "Everyone alright." she asked. Both of them nodded. 

They meet up with others at the highway and then heard call for help. As they ran up the ramp they were attacked by darkspawn. Kathryn could see the surprise in the faces of both Roland and Leliana, but after the momentary shock, they both attacked. 

Leliana went back to the bow, timing and aiming her shots with precision. Sten attacked the darkspawn with a ferocity that seemed to border on hatred. He had impressive skills but ones weakened by weeks spent in the cage. Roland and him went after the weaker fighters. Alistair went after the alpha. She circled around him, between the two of them the alpha quickly fell. They then ganged up on those remaining until they stood alone. 

After she spoke to the dwarven merchant who had issued the call for help, she noticed that Roland was looking intently at one of the darkspawn. She walked up to him. "Are you alright?" she asked. 

He looked up. "Yes, it's just… seeing them for the first time… now I understand the stories, the horror and the fear. I see why they must be stopped at all costs." 

"And we will." she said. We have to. She thought. There is no one else. 

Chapter 13: First Camp Part I 

13.1 Kathryn 

The little that Kathryn knew about the Qunari was that the Qun ruled all aspects of life, including, apparently, how and where to set up a camp. Sten rejected several locations as being unsuitable before settling on one and dictating where the tents and fire should be placed, with all the sure authority of one who has done this so many times they have forgotten why they do it this way, just that it works. 

The other important order of business was to determine who was to be in charge of cooking. Alistair admitted that given the monastery used kitchen duty as a punishment for various infractions, he had extensive experience and could prepare food fit for consumption. However whether or not anyone actually wanted to eat it was a different matter since the brothers were not overly concerned with how the food tasted, if it tasted at all. But since that was more than any of the rest of them could claim, he was named the group's cook. 

After dinner, which true to his word, was edible if unappetizing, she asked him about the Grey Wardens, and firmly established that they were on their own. 

She started to turn away when she thought about asking if he wanted to talk about Duncan. Talking afterwards had helped her somewhat, or perhaps it was just knowing someone was there to listen, but either way. She asked gently, trying to show she was not prying but available. And he did talk, a little, that he shouldn’t have lost it, that he felt that he abandoned Duncan and how he wanted to have a proper funeral for him. She told him that she knew how he felt and understood. He thanked her and she could tell he meant it. She was glad they had talked. 

She turned and took a step away. He called after her. "You never actually told me what happened, you know… at the castle. I heard, of course... I just thought you would when you were ready." 

She stopped and turned back to him. "And I will." She said and walked away. 

13.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn walked over to where Roland was finishing off the last of the stew. He looked up slightly embarrassed. "Been surviving on meager rations for the last few days. May not be much but it is edible." He said. 

"Can't ask for much more at this point." She said as she sat beside him. "Are you alright? Really? Is there anything you need or anything I can do? We can go to the tower or Denerim, find you a healer. Even Flemeth, might be willing..." She asked. 

He smiled. "No, I'm fine or I will be. I got good care from a sister in a nearby town, for which I am grateful. I might not have made it otherwise. But it will just take time." 

She nodded. "Okay, please if there is anything..." 

"I will. Thank you, Kathryn." He said emphasizing her name. "I like being able to call you that again." 

She smiled wide. "Yes, 'my lady' gets old... Roland." 

"I never thought we would be able to just sit like this ever again." He said. 

"I know, it is so silly how..." she started. 

"I didn't abandon the gate!" He interrupted her, blurting it out as though he simply couldn't stop himself any longer. 

Kathryn looked at him, eyes wide. "I know that. I never thought otherwise, and even if you had, I wouldn't... couldn't blame you for trying to escape death... or worse at the hands of Howe's men." Her voice was unsteady. She swallowed hard. "I know that I only escaped because you stayed, because you held the gate, because of what you did for me." 

His hands were shaking slightly. He looked at the ground, breathing hard. "We held the door but the door frame finally cracked. They came rushing through. There were just so many. We couldn't stop them. We tried... but there were just too many. I don't remember how... they thought I was... dead... and put me in the pile with the other bodies... to be burned. I... woke up there and... escaped." He said in a rush. 

She reached over and placed her hand on his. "Roland, I am so... so very sorry. I can't even..." 

"I wanted to tell you... I... saw... his lordship and her ladyship there. Howe's men... they didn't… hurt them. They must have died before they found them." He said. 

Kathryn looked to him, confused. "But Mother, she wasn't injured... I don't..." 

"She had a wound to her wrist, severe. She was very pale... it must have been blood loss." Roland said hoping he wouldn't have to spell it out for her. 

Kathryn began to nod. "Yes, Mother would not let them be captured. If Father... yes, she would have... she wouldn't let Howe have the satisfaction." She said with a great deal of bitterness. 

"They looked... peaceful. I saw them to the Maker myself. Howe never even saw them. I wanted to tell you that." He said, his voice steady again. 

"Thank you, Roland." She got up and quickly walked off into the night. 

13.3 Roland 

Roland took the greatsword they had bought in Lothering. It was a good blade, nothing special but well made. He walked out past the tents to an open area. The moon was bright and the sky clear enough to see by. The light was easier on his eyes, which were still sensitive to daylight. 

In Lothering, his timing had been off, footwork unsteady, balance and stance awkward. No doubt he had looked more like a wash-woman batting clothes than a knight. He needed practice, work the routines and moves till they felt natural again. After any injury the body has to, in many ways, relearn such things or at least remember them. He needed to get back into fighting form. So much depended on them and he wanted to help as much as he could, and he couldn't do much like this. 

He started slowly with the basics he had learned as a boy. He went through the routines, the stances and moves, the blows and blocks, swings and strikes. So much of this had been second nature to him, to try to work through it now was beyond frustrating. But he was determined to keep at it. 

He spun around, his feet moved too slowly or his body too quickly. He had to compromise his form to stop himself from tripping over his own feet. The sword swung out widely and he couldn't hold on to it. It landed several feet away from him, and about the same distance from Alistair who had walked up. Alistair looked at the sword and then said. "I was going to ask how it was going, but I see it's going well." 

"I... I was... working on my timing... footwork... since the castle... I got a pretty bad blow and..." He reached up and rubbed his forehead and then laughed a nervous, embarrassed laugh. "I haven't lost hold of a blade in ten years." 

Alistair picked up the sword and handed it back to him. "Well, I've had to work through a few injuries myself. I know it takes time but it comes back. However, it is easier to focus if you have someone to focus on. If you want I could stand in for you." 

"I couldn't ask that of you. It's just going through drills, tedious and monotonous ones at that." Roland said. 

"You didn't ask. I offered. And lest you forget, I was raised in a monastery. They are experts in tedious and monotonous. Besides you won't have to worry about hurting me and it might help." He pulled out his sword and began adjusting the straps on his shield. 

Roland smiled. He knew that he was right, it would help a great deal and was a generous offer of his time and energy. "I would be most grateful." He said. 

Over and over, back and forth, from tediousness to monotonous and over again. Then slowly the moves began to feel familiar, the footwork natural, the stances second nature, the dizziness became manageable. As the night wore on, he began to feel like himself again. 

13.4 Alistair 

"So, you were a knight at Highever?" Alistair asked as they sat on the grass catching their breath or as Roland caught his breath, Alistair wasn't even winded. 

"Yes," Roland answered. "My father is a minor lord in the east bannorn, but our lands are really just a glorified farmstead. He sent me to squire there when I was ten, which was about fourteen years ago now." 

"So, you and Kathryn... basically grew up together." Alistair asked seemingly making conversation. 

"Well, yes. Fergus is several years older than I while she is about two years younger. So, it was always just the two of us, studying, training, going on our own adventures, getting into trouble, things children do." Roland said with a smile, slightly lost in fond memories. 

"She's like a... sister to you then." Alistair said. 

"She... was... when we were growing up." Roland said. 

"Was?" Alistair asked. 

"Well, we grew up and one day we weren't children anymore. I should be ashamed of it really, to admit how I acted, what I allowed to happen. But you do stupid things, take stupid risks when you think you are in love." He said shaking his head. 

"In love..." Alistair said and swallowed hard. 

"Yes. Before I was knighted, we fancied ourselves to be in love... who knows… maybe we were. Anyway, we wrote each other love notes and bad poems, held hands when no one was around and stole kisses in the larder." Roland said fondly. 

"Kissed her! You kissed her!" Alistair said much louder than he intended to. 

"I know... to have done that... the daughter of my lord... I should truly be ashamed of myself. It was inexcusable behavior. But that was as far as it ever went. I was very fortunate that the Teyrn is... was an understanding man. He could have sent me back to my father in shame but he didn't. He made it clear that such behavior could not continue and asked for my word that it end. I gave it to him and have held to it. But I still... care for her... very much." Roland said with emotion. 

Alistair stared at the ground. Roland continued. "I have kissed others since, of course, been with them, but I never felt for them what I felt for her even after these many years." 

"Been with them? You mean like... been with them?" Alistair asked. 

"Yes. Although not as many as I claim in the barracks but more than I would admit to a lady, of course." Roland said with a slight smile. 

Of course. Alistair thought. Of course, you have. 

"I know I should be ashamed but in truth I hold that time very dear. I was waiting with dread for the day that she would be married and leave Highever for good. Be married, no doubt, to some rich and powerful noble who wanted her for her name or for her beauty but didn't love nor respect her. I sometimes allowed myself to believe that perhaps one reason she hadn't married is that she still carried some feeling for me." Roland said. 

"You think... she... does?" Alistair asked still staring at the ground. 

"I do not know... for sure. But when I told her that I was determined to stay and hold the gate so that she could escape... she kissed me." Roland said. 

"She kissed you." Alistair said quietly with a sigh. 

"I know it was gratitude… but there was something there, you know, that... something was still there after all this time." He said. 

No, Alistair thought, he didn't know. He didn't have the slightest idea what Roland was talking about. Well, he had heard about it but know about it himself, no, nothing even close. 

"When Duncan came to the castle, I had the foolish hope that he might recruit both of us. That then we could be together and there would be nothing... that maybe we could... finally... be together..." Roland said. "...and now..." 

"No, it is not foolish to hope for such things... not at all." Alistair said softly. Several moments went by with each man lost in their own thoughts. 

Then Roland looked to Alistair and said. "Do you have any family?" 

"Me? No. My parents are both dead. Since I didn't have anyone to take care of me, I was sent to the monastery, and they decided I should be a templar. Believe me, it wasn't my choice… I may have a… no, there is no one." Alistair said. 

"I'm sorry to hear that. I haven't seen my father in years, since I was knighted in fact, but we write often. It would be difficult if he wasn't there, hadn't been there." Roland said. 

Finally, Roland stood up and said. "I think that is enough for me. I want to thank you, truly. You were a great help." 

"Anytime." Alistair said and watched as Roland walked back to the fire. 

13.5 Alistair 

Alistair leaned back and looked at the stars. He thought that constellation was named for a tale about a noble's daughter who fell in love with one of her father's soldiers. That seemed appropriate. 

So, they had grown up together, fell in love, but were kept apart by social restrictions, ones that he didn't need to remind himself, were no longer relevant. He is a knight from a good family, the son of a lord, someone who knows about women, even been with them. He still loves her, of course... how could he not... and he stayed behind, facing certain death or worse to give her a chance to escape. She owes him her life and... she kissed him. He had seen how she had rushed to him in Lothering... hugged him in the square... 

The worst part about it all was that he liked Roland. For all intents and purposes, he seemed a good man, solid, brave and he was glad he had joined them, glad to have him as a comrade, glad even to perhaps, in time, call him a friend. And he had to admit if anyone... deserved her, it would be him. Part of him even hoped that it did work out for them. What they were trying to do, what she would have to do, would be difficult and trying and she may need someone. He wanted her to be happy. But there was another part of him that was... disappointed. He had thought... hoped... but now... 

He stood up and started walking through his own progressions, steps and forms, stances and strikes, blocks and blows, trying to work out this feeling, this sinking, empty feeling he now had. 

He closed his eyes, seeing it all in his head, going through it again and again, over and over. Being the outsider he was used to practicing by himself or with imaginary opponents. He spun around ready to slice off the head of a particularly vicious darkspawn when his blade struck something. He heard the sound of metal on metal. 

He opened his eyes to see Kathryn standing there, daggers crossed holding his sword between them. She quickly pulled them apart driving his sword back. 

Chapter 14: First Camp Part II 

14.1 Alistair 

Alistair had just enough time to get set before Kathryn unleashed a flurry of blows, fore strike, backhand, thrust, off-hand strike, backhand, thrust. He furiously tried to counter each strike, blocking with his shield and using his sword to deflect. But she was too fast and he took one of her strikes to his midsection. He felt the sharp sting of the blow. She wasn't playing around... she wanted to fight... to really fight... with him. Wow! 

It would be a battle of her quickness and speed verses his resilience and endurance; her ability to dodge verses his ability to defend; her multitude of strikes to his stronger ones; her talent for exploiting weakness verses his strength. 

In such a fair fight, he held the advantage, for rogues seldom, if ever, fight fair. Time was also on his side for she as any rogue can only maintain peak speed for a short time. If he could outlast her best and first attacks, if the fight became a war of attrition, meaning if she didn't best him quickly, she probably wouldn't. But then again winning wasn't the point. 

She brought both daggers up to his sword side. He blocked them with the side of his blade, and pushed them back. He then spun around and slashed with the edge of his shield. She dodged the strike. 

With his shield now being out of position to block, she issued a quick kick, meant to strike his midsection or groin. But he stepped into the kick turning to the side and setting his feet, taking it to his hip. For her it was like kicking a stone wall or getting kicked by one. The force of the kick pushed her backwards, pain shot through her entire leg. She stumbled, desperately trying to stay on her feet. He came after her slashing with his sword. She dodged and deflected, retreating the entire time. 

As he advanced on her, she reset her feet and stepped forward, using her daggers to defect a thrust to her right. She turned to the right intending to spin past him and deliver a backward strike to his vulnerable flank. However, he kept turning to his left bringing his shield back in time to deflect the blow so that it glanced harmlessly off his shoulder. 

She backed up and then rushed him, bluffing a high strike and then slashing low at his knees and ankles. He was thrown off balance. She kicked again. This time the blow landed. He couldn't compensate, overbalanced and fell onto his back. She stepped on his shield, pinning it to the ground. She brought up both daggers for the 'kill', but he released the shield, rolled over and quickly got back to his feet. 

Without his shield, he was at a distinct disadvantage even with the heavy armor. She pushed her edge and came at him with another barrage of lightening fast strikes. He was able to keep up, but only barely. He deflected what he could with his sword and took the rest off his wrist guards. The shield is slower, of course, but it takes most of the damage or at least spreads it over a wider area, allowing the force to be more easily absorbed. The wrist guards protected from cuts but he still felt the full force of the strikes to his forearms. He couldn't keep this up or he'd lose feeling in his hands, and he could temporarily lose functionality, his grip on his sword. He finally caught a dual strike from both daggers with his sword, deflecting them downward and to her right, leaving her open. He brought up his fist, and then lowered it. 

He had been taught to be a gentleman, to never hit a woman but right now she wasn’t a woman but a fighter, and he doubted very much that any darkspawn, bandit or soldier would be so courteous. 

He quickly brought his fist back up and hit her square in the chest. She staggered back, trying to catch her breath. He stepped forward as she went to a knee. He made a swing intended for her throat and the 'kill' but she dove to the ground landing on her side. She kicked him with her top leg in the back of his thigh. He fell to a knee. She rolled back and jumped up. He swung wildly at her, but she was able to evade it, letting the sword cut through the air where she had been. 

He looked up at her. She had gotten his shield away from him. He couldn't remember the last time anything like that had happened to him in a real fight, much less a sparring match. She was still catching her breath from the punch. Her chest was heaving up and down, hair tossed by the wind, muscles flexed and taunt, checks flushed, eyes full of fire and lips curled into a wicked smile. Hot! 

If he tried to stand, he would be unable to block and with her quickness she could deliver a 'kill' before he had time to get set. However, he had the advantage of reach. She had to get within his range before he was within hers. She stepped to just within arms reach, ready to block the attack she knew he would make, and then counter-strike for the 'kill.' 

But he slashed upwards with more force than she was expecting and, in truth, thought him capable of given he was kneeling. She tried to block it but the force of the blow knocked her daggers back. She was forced to evade the next strike, putting her out of position for any follow up. He had just a moment before she recovered to get to his feet. He leaned forward putting all his weight on his bent leg and then with effort pushed himself to his feet. He took a step back to reset. Then he started advancing on her, taking the sword in both hands, making huge, powerful swings. She didn't dare try to block them and had no choice but to dodge each one, as they forced her back again and again. 

He raised his sword high over his head. She retreated even farther, putting even more space between them and getting set for a major attack. Just as she got set, he… turned and ran back to where his shield was laying which, given the distance he had driven her back, was several steps behind him now. He calmly picked it up and adjusted his grip and got into his normal stance albeit with a his own sly smile. He had just 'won' and they both knew it. 

She tilted her head to the side, dropped her shoulders and let her daggers fall to her sides. She tried weakly to suppress a smile and failing started to shake her head and laugh. For his part, he was just glad she wasn't upset that he had hit her. 

She looked to him and smiled that smile of hers. He would have thought he'd be used to it by now. That each time she smiled at him, it wouldn't affect him the same way it had that first time. That it still wouldn't feel like someone had punched him the gut, forcing all the air out of his lungs, but it did. He stood up and lowered both sword and shield. He took his sword and gripped the blade just past the pommel and held it up before him. "Formal offer of a draw." He said with a smile. 

She likewise turned her grip on her daggers until they were pointing backwards and held them up in front of her. "You're being generous. You won and you know it, but accepted." She then crossed her arms over her chest and bowed. As she looked back up to him, he took his fist, still holding the sword to his shoulder and bowed his head. After the formalities they walked to each other. 

"I should win. It was a fair fight, puts you at a distinct disadvantage, no poisons, no range, no sneaky, tricky, roguey... things." He said. 

"I guess then we will just have to compete for points." She said playfully. 

"I... don't know." He said. "Maybe... but if I kill an ogre, that has to be worth... at least... four genlocks." 

"Last ogre we fought I killed, remember." She said, crossing her arms. 

"After I freed you from getting pummeled, lest you recall." He said also crossing his arms. 

"I only got grabbed because I was distracting him, so you didn't get rammed again." She said. 

"Yes, letting him grab you was a great distraction." He said with a smile. 

"I didn't let..." She glared but while smiling. Then said. "Can I ask you a favor?" 

Anything. He wanted to say. Anything at all, anything she asked him right now, he would do or give her or at least try to with all he had. He would lay all of Thedas at her feet, if she only asked him to. He shrugged. "You can ask." He said lightly. "What is it?" 

"Teach me that punch. I mean how to do it and how to take it." She said. 

14.2 Leliana 

Leliana sat close to the fire, trying to get warm. She had never gotten used to how cold and damp Ferelden was. In addition, she was not familiar with camping in the open like this. She was more accustomed to cities and manors, palaces with halls and fires and beds. Even in Lothering, she had a roof over her head and a warm, if not particularly comfortable, bed. 

While the idea of camping and traveling was romantic, the freedom of the open road, sleeping under the stars, and so on. The practicalities of actually doing it, were less so. She couldn't say she was looking forward to it all but it was necessary to end the Blight and she was more than willing to make nearly any sacrifice for that end. 

Also from here she could better observe her traveling companions. If there was anything her life as a bard had taught her was how to read and work a room. She was glad to see that her skills hadn't completely atrophied during her time in Lothering. 

Sten, the Qunari. She had never meet a Qunari before, heard about them, of course. She knew the Chantry said that they were heathens, vile and evil, but in truth, Sten didn't seem very vile or evil. True, he had murdered those people but he seemed to truly regret it. Perhaps there was more to the story. And the Maker was not so cruel to not allow for redemption or atonement. If he was willing to risk his life fighting the Blight, and in truth there was nothing keeping him here besides his dedication to ending the Blight, he couldn't be all bad. There was also a deep sorrow about him, she wondered why, no doubt there was a story there. 

Morrigan acted and no doubt truly believed that she was better and smarter than everyone else. She seemed determined to be difficult, as though not wanting anyone to like her or even talk to her. She had noticed that those types of people who are so obvious about not needing or wanting anyone are the ones that need and want them the most, even if they have forgotten that fact. They are the truly lonely ones. It was sad really. 

She did have a sort of wild elegance about her, though. She was slim with lovely, long, lines to her body, like a dancer, moved like one too. She'd love to put her in a deep velvet dress, dark red or maybe purple with a very deep v-neck. She didn't have much in the way of a bosom but she also didn't mind showing it off either. And jewelry, most definitely, and lots of it. She could tell a jewelry fiend when she saw one. 

Roland, the knight, seemed... somewhat distracted and lost. She wasn't quite sure of the story. She would ask Kathryn, but he seemed to be suffering from some kind of injury. No doubt more of his personality would come through when he had recovered. From what she could tell he seemed a gentleman, sure of himself, yes, but not at all cocky or smug. A good man, brave and strong in heart and mind. Someone who would be a loyal and trustworthy friend, a human mabari, and nice looking too. 

Any man can be seduced by the right woman, the trick is to figure out who that woman is and be that. The woman for him... would... be a nice, wholesome girl. Someone he could take care of, one he could show the ways of the world and of love to, a lady for him to worship and adore, to take care of protect. It was obvious, at least to her, that he knew his way around a woman, but not sure any of them had touched his heart. In her former incarnation, she wouldn't have minded taking a turn with him. 

Speaking of those she wouldn't have minded taking a turn with... she watched as Kathryn walked up to where Alistair was practicing. She saw her step into his strike and block it, to what looked like his great surprise. She watched as they fought with fire and ferocity but a kind of grace and beauty too. 

Alistair seemed a good man with a good and tender heart, that he wore on his sleeve. He was personable, smart, with a sense of humor that while sarcastic didn't seem to have any mean intent and... he was quite handsome too. But there was something painfully sad about him. She knew all of the other Grey Wardens, no doubt, friends of his, had died in the battle but it went deeper than that. There was a story there too, she was sure of it. 

He had also never known a woman. She could spot those men a half a league away. But while he might respond to a confident and generous woman who could show him the ways of love, she wasn't sure. Many men with such deep emotions would only bear their hearts and bodies to one they truly loved. In her former life, she may have only seen him as a challenge, to see if she could make him love her and get him into bed and then walk away. For while he wore his heart on his sleeve, it wouldn't be so easy to reach. 

But because her heart had been broken... no, worse than that... shattered... and it had not healed. It might never... not completely. The ways of love no longer seemed a game to her, to play for her own amusement and pleasure. 

She felt an attraction to him, to be sure, but... she was also hesitant. Perhaps... she wasn't ready... maybe... he wasn't the right person... or she wasn't the right person for him. She could see how deeply his emotions ran, how much he could be hurt. Such deep emotions are a great responsibility, but the rewards... the true love and complete devotion of such a man... 

She continued to watch the fight, with its fury and passion. Kathryn was... impressive in many ways. She had an air about her of authority and confidence. She was smart and cunning, persuasive and would make a excellent bard. But there was a hardness about her, a cold practicality in her thoughts and judgment. She seemed to have a good heart to go along with her good head but she would unquestioningly follow the latter over the former, even to her own detriment. 

She had not known a man or, for that matter, a woman. She didn't seem to be interested in the latter but you never know and she was beautiful... and more her type, more what she was used to. But that had been before... much had changed... she had changed. Her type had broken her heart... but that had been a matter of character and Kathryn had more than... anyway. 

She would love to get Kathryn into (and then out of) a dress of silk, something very dark if not black, simple, elegant but distinctive. She had a good figure, strong limbs and hips with a nice bosom. She would be an enigma in her outfit as in her person. She would wear a dress that showed no skin at all but tight to the body, with a high neck, long sleeves and gloves. Yes, she was definitely a glove girl. An outfit that showed everything but nothing at the same time, keeping safe the mysteries of her self, her heart and her body. Mysteries that she had to admit intrigued her. 

And since she was picking out dresses, she'd put herself in satin, a strong color, sapphire blue or even emerald green, something to show off her legs, open neck or even off-shoulder, something daring. She had been dressing in a Chantry robe for so long. She hadn't even thought about so many of the nice things she had before and how much she missed them. When they went to Denerim, she had to get some new shoes... blue... with ribbons... 

14.3 Roland 

Roland walked back to the fire and double checked that there was no stew left. He was actually starting to get his appetite back which he hoped meant he was nearly back to normal. 

As he walked to his tent, he looked back as Alistair started walking though what he assumed was his own training routines, advanced stuff from the look of it. Most sword and shield moves he knew of or had ever seen, comprised of setting your feet and barely moving them, holding up your shield and letting the enemy pummel you until they got tired and you swung at them. Definitely not the kind of aggressive strikes with the shield he was seeing now or the intricate footwork. A spin move... for a sword and shield warrior... impressive! 

Roland wished he could stand in for him as Alistair had for him, but he was exhausted. Since the attack, he tired more easily. He was getting stronger, but he wasn't up to that level, not yet. One day, hopefully soon, they would be able to have a real go at it, a formal tournament type duel. He had been in a few and had done well. It would be fun and from the look of it a real challenge. 

He liked Alistair. He seemed a good man, generous, brave and honorable. The type of man you would want as a friend and comrade. It was too bad he hadn't squired at Highever, he would have fit right in at the castle. But he was very glad he had survived the battle and was part of the group. 

He approved very much of both him and the sister, Leliana. She seemed very devoted and not shy about it. But with all that had happened her simple faith and bright personality seemed just what they all needed. He suspected that the Maker had brought her to them and was glad of it. 

He was about to step into his tent when he saw Kathryn walk up to where Alistair was practicing. Alistair's head was down and his eyes were probably closed. It was an exercise, going through the moves blind, trying to image them, to visual them. 

She slowly and quietly drew her daggers and waited and just as he swung, she stepped into the strike. Roland's heart stopped for a moment, but she held the blow and pushed his sword back. Alistair for his part, had been surprised to find someone on the pointy end of his sword but recovered quickly and it was a good thing to, for without warning she unleashed a barrage of blows. 

Roland watched captivated by the fight. She had improved greatly since the last time they had sparred. Of course they hadn't sparred in a long time, either. He always went easy on her and the last time she had 'beaten' him and that had been the last time. He now wondered if that was more than a coincidence. Watching her now, he suspected that she had known he was in effect, humoring her and that was why they had not fought since then. 

She got Alistair's shield away from him. Good move! That would nearly even the fight. However, Alistair seemed almost as good blocking with his sword and wrist guards, although that had to be quite painful. Then... he... punched her! What?! How could he? How... dare he? She is a woman and a lady! Dear Maker! Alistair should know better, they were only sparring. He was going too hard on her. Roland thought. She was likely to get hurt. Roland continued to watch nervously as swing after powerful swing barely missed her. 

Then as she fell back, Alistair ran over and calmly picked up his shield. Roland had to admit that was a good bluff and in effect the winning move. She would be furious not only with the punch but the fact that she had in effect lost. She was never a good loser... but then... he heard her... laugh. 

Alistair brought up his sword in a gesture of truce, the offering of a draw which she accepted. She bowed to him with arms crossed in a show of respect while he took his fist to his shoulder in another sign of respect and ones he had to admit had been well earned. 

After the formalities, he watched as Alistair taught her how to give and deflect a punch. Things Roland could have shown her if he had ever thought of it. But a lady didn't punch people and besides who would ever hit a woman? Well, now that you mention it, any bandit or solider or darkspawn or nearly anything else she was likely to fight. Roland had to admit he envied him this moment and that something about it made him slightly uncomfortable, although he wasn't sure why. He remembered how in Lothering she had fought with Alistair and not him. But that could be easily put down to the fact that they had fought together more recently. 

He was tired, he started into his tent but took one last look at them. Now they were working on him countering her sweeping strike to his lower legs. This was a good thing, them practicing and learning from each other like this, and for some reason he needed to remind himself of that. 

Chapter 15: Second Camp 

15.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn and Roland had spent most of the evening, talking and laughing recalling growing up at Highever. As painful as it had, at times, been, it had done them both good to remember the castle and the people in it fondly, and to talk of them together. 

As the moon rose, Kathryn could tell that Roland was tiring and said good night. As she got up to leave, he said. "I have not yet completely recovered as of yet, but I have much improved in these last days and know that soon I shall. As I told you I was recruited by Duncan and want nothing more than to become a Grey Warden and share that burden and responsibilities with you and Alistair. I just wish to know what it is that I must do." 

She sat back down beside him. "It isn't that simple." She thought for a moment and then with a sigh said. "To become a Grey Warden, you must go through a ritual called the joining. It basically entails drinking a potion which turns you into a Grey Warden." She lowered her voice and continued. "The potion includes the blood of the darkspawn and drinking it makes you immune to the taint, the poison, carried in their blood and in time it allows you to sense them." 

His eyes grew the slightest bit wide at the notion of drinking darkspawn blood but then he seemed to see the logic of it making one immune to its poison. He considered for a moment and then nodded his head and said. "All right, that sounds useful in fighting them. But there has to be a downside to it, besides the obvious." 

"There is a risk, not all who take the joining survive it. I saw one of the recruits die in front of me. He would have made a good warden too." She said with sadness. 

"Despite that, I still wish to attempt it." Roland said. 

"I knew you would." She said with a smile. "However, neither I nor Alistair know how to prepare the potion." Roland looked crestfallen. "I'm sorry." She said, but in truth she wasn't sorry at all. In fact, she was glad, for while she did think that he would survive the joining, she was not willing to risk his life, no matter how small she thought the chance was. 

"Well, then I'll do whatever I can to help, until we find out how to prepare this joining." He said. 

"Yes, and when we do, I'll be glad to have you become a Grey Warden." She said but in truth, she had already decided that if she anything to do with it, he would never take the joining. 

15.2 Alistair 

Alistair looked over the map by the fire. He had been studying it for a while now, well, pretending to study it was more like it. Really he had been listening in to Kathryn's and Roland's conversation without them knowing. It was good to hear her laugh and he wanted to hear the stories about her growing up, the kind of child she had been. Apparently a mischievous but good natured one, learning to pick locks to steal cookies from the larder, playing pranks on the soldiers and her tutor, sneaking out of the castle to go exploring, climbing to the top of the watchtower just because Roland had said she couldn't. Her family sounded like a nice, warm, teasing sort. He wished he could have met them. 

He was a little jealous (okay maybe a lot) in that him and her had no such memories to talk of. About all they could talk about were the sheer number of times something had tried to kill them. 'Hey, remember that time we nearly got killed? No, the other time. No, the one before that. Yes. That one. Good times.' 

Roland was now talking about actually becoming a Grey Warden. It would be nice to have another one or a dozen of them, come to think of it, but they didn't know how to prepare the joining. Kathryn's and Roland's voices dropped out of his range of hearing and he began actually studying the map. 

As much as he could figure they should arrive in Redcliffe sometime tomorrow afternoon. He hadn't seen the village or castle in ten years, nor had he seen the arl. He hoped that he was alright, that, as rumors do, his illness had been exaggerated. He hoped he would be able to talk to him... he didn't want things between them to be left the way they had been... 

Kathryn walked around the fire to where Alistair was sitting. After discussing their location and that of Redcliffe, she asked about the arl. He had known this was coming. No way to avoid it, unfortunately, but he could stall. But eventually he could see her amusment begin to turn to annoyance. So he told her. 

Now, he waited to see her reaction. He was expecting what he normally got, some variation of condescending, patronizing, disdainful contempt, as if he had had anything to do with the circumstances of his conception. As thought his very existence was an affront to the laws of the Maker and society. Which he guessed in a way it was. Well, maybe his existence wasn't the affront, just the evidence of the affront. He expected even more of that kind of reaction because she was a noble. Given that he was not only a commoner but the child of a servant and the bastard child of that servant, that made him about the lowest you can go on the social strata and still be considered a person, although just barely. 

But as he looked, he didn't see anything like disdainful contempt, she looked more curious than anything. Was that even possible? Could it really be that the circumstances of his birth didn't mean anything to her? Didn't affect how she saw him... or how she... felt towards him? If not, well, she'd be the first. But... Oh Maker, he really hoped so. 

15.3 Kathryn 

Now, she understood his reluctance to tell her. Being a bastard carried a stigma both social and religious. No doubt, her being from a noble family hadn't made him feel any better about telling her either. Most nobles would consider him not even worthy of their contempt, not that they wouldn't give it anyway. 

But she didn't feel that way. She had seen many nobles who were thoroughly worthless people without redeeming quality, even without the recent example still fresh in her mind, and she had seen many commoners of outstanding character and worth, and from what she had already witnessed that included him. The situation you were born into was not your doing but what you did after that was important. 

She remembered when her and Roland had fancied themselves to be in love. When father had found out, he had made her promise that it end or he would be forced to send him back to his father. She had not understood, but father said that he must trust him in this that he loved her and would only ever do what was best for her, even if she did not understand why. She loved and respected her father and believed him and gave her promise, though at the time it broke her heart. 

Roland was a good man and he loved her, why wasn't that enough? Because it isn't. She was told. Mother had tried to explain to her why their relationship would not work. It was never about worthiness or value but in this, as in everything, things are always more complicated. 

Roland was the son of a minor lord, true and when his father died he would inherit the lands, be able to support a wife and family, but did she really wish to live and work on a farm? She didn't know the first thing about it and would be less than useless, even if she wanted to. Then, of course, the people she knew now would not want to associate with her. Some because they think them superior but it isn't about being better but the simple fact that the classes are different. 

Nobles are given rights and privileges but they have responsibilities and duties that commoners do not. They are given education, training to fulfill those duties and responsibilities. They spend their entire lives learning those skills, just as she had, and it is their responsibility to use those skills to improve things because they have that power and the ability. 

But because of that education and training, they have interests that are and must be different than commoners and they wish to associate with those who have those experiences too, with those they have things in common. A knight has little in common with a laboror, a farmer little with a soldier. Many have tried to marry outside their class but it inevitable fails. Marriage is hard enough without differences in backgrounds and experience coming into play. You'll understand one day. She was told and in truth, she did, somewhat. 

Father had told her in so many words, I was to be Teyrn of Highever. I could have married an innkeeper's daughter but she could not help me fulfill my responsibilities to the people of Highever, and it was to them that I owed my highest duty. Not because she was deficient in any way, but because she would not know how, she did not have the education and training to do so. Your mother could have married a farmer but she not only would not know the first thing about it and be of little use to him and would not have been happy with that life. She had education and training and a duty to use that. We are most happy and content when we are fulfilling the roles the Maker has chosen for us. 

Kathryn woke herself out of her private thoughts and considered what Alistair had said. He was still Alistair, but knowing that about him told her more about him and she wanted to know more, and not only because it might prove relevant when they got to Redcliffe and talked to the Arl. 

15.4 Alistair 

"But you blamed him then, I take it?" She asked gently. 

He was somewhat surprised that she was listening close enough to catch that. The arl had tried to frame going to the monastery as being a good thing, a chance to be with boys his own age, get an education and training, just like the knight he had so wanted to be. But Alistair knew better. He was being sent away because he wasn't wanted there. Despite the fact that deep down he knew it wasn't the arl who didn't want him there, it was the arlessa and if Alistair was ever truly honest with himself, he despised her. The difference being he had a good reason. He truly believed that she had forced the arl to send him away probably with threats of going back to Orlais. As a man, he now understood the arl's duty to his wife and that he had little choice, but as a child he didn't and was deeply hurt by it. 

Kathryn listened and then asked about his father and the possibility that it was the arl. Damn. He didn't want to lie to her. That would only make things worse when she did find out. He was going to have to tell her sooner or later. Probably a lot sooner than he wanted but... later than now. He didn't lie, wasn't lying... all he had said was true. The absolute truth... just not all of it. He just hoped she didn't push the issue. He quickly changed the subject to the amulet he has lost and how the arl had come to the monastery but he had refused to see him. Both things filled him with sadness and regret. 

He was glad the conversation was over... at least for now. He had told the truth, well... most of it. He had left out a few details here and there. The whole part of his father being King Maric... well, he had glossed right over that. 

He would have to tell her and soon. They were on their way to Redcliffe, at most his selective telling of the truth had only delayed the inevitable for another night. And she reacted exceptionally well to him telling her that he was a bastard, better than he could have hoped to be honest, so it might not be so bad. Then again, there is only one thing worse than a bastard and that's a royal bastard. He didn't want her to know as long as possible. Everyone who found out treated him differently, looked at him differently... and he liked the way she looked at him. 

Well, at least he would for one more day. 

Chapter 16: Redcliffe 

16.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn had finished speaking with Teagan in the chantry, informing him that both Murdock and Ser Perth were ready. There seemed nothing more to do but wait. 

She turned to leave when he said to her. "It occurs to me now why you seem so familiar... and it would appear that we have meet before, although I doubt you remember me." She turned back to him with a curious and surprised expression. "We met when you were presented to the king upon your coming of age, that would be nearly six years ago now." 

"Oh, I am so very sorry. I do remember that, of course, but I have to admit I don't remember you." She said slightly embarrassed. She should have remembered that and should remember meeting him. 

"Of course not, I am a bann of little consequences. You met much more interesting people than me that day, including a few Antivan princes, at least a dozen Orlesian nobles, and nearly all the nobility of Ferelden. No noble this side of the Frostbacks would dare to miss the presentation of a Cousland, especially one as well spoken of as you. But I think your failure to remember me has much more to do with the fact that by the time I was introduced, you had indulged in more wine that you were accustomed to." He said with a smile. 

"Oh dear Maker." She said with a groan and the remembrance of the headache she had the next day. "I didn't embarrassed myself or you, did I?" She asked mortified. 

"No, no, no, you handled yourself beautifully, with grace and poise, throughout. In truth, the only way most anyone can stand to get through those things is with some wine, and all know it. So any discretion due to such would be easily forgiven." His smile and causal way of speaking about it, put her back at ease. 

Once he saw that she was again relaxed, he continued. "Generally I leave that type of thing to Eamon, but I knew it would be worth putting in an appearance, Bryce always throws a good party." He looked sad and thoughtful for a moment, started to say something, stopped and then said. "And if I may be so bold, you were quite stunning. It does surprise me that you never married, since after that day you had nearly every nobleman in Thedas eating out of your hand." 

She smiled. She truly wished she did and for that matter had remembered meeting him. "Surprised you and Mother both. But I am picky in my choice of husband, slavish devotion is simply not enough. I demand personality, character and intelligence and much of the nobility is sorely lacking in at least one of those traits." 

Teagan smiled a very charming smile and said. "I must say your assessment of the qualities of noblemen is fairly accurate, although in my gender's and class's defense I have to say that there are exceptions." 

Yes, Kathryn thought, she was looking at one. "Then upon your word I shall not dismiss all of them. Although in the last few years I have met most of them. In fact, I am surprised that Mother did not introduce us. She was desperate to make a match for me. Unless of course you are already married." She was so charmed, that she had probably missed the obvious conclusion. 

He smiled and said. "No, I am not married but as I said, I am bann of no consequence, not a suitable match for a teyrn's daughter, I assure you." 

Of course not, I find you interesting and charming so therefore you can't be a suitable match. Not that it mattered now, she was no longer a lady but a Grey Warden with a blight to defeat. "Well, you should not feel snubbed by my forgetfulness, I do not remember meeting Cailan either and he was the prince." She said. 

"That is because you didn't. He was suspiciously absent from the festivities. The king was furious, but apparently he was sick. Many of us suspected that... Loghain had something to do with it." He said. 

"Why would he do that?" She asked. 

"Well, there had been talk that it may be better if Cailan married you instead of Anora. They had been promised as children, nearly from the day Cailan was born. But many objected to her since she was a commoner and there was the curious fact that they had not married yet, despite being promised for such a long time, Cailan being of age and Anora not getting any younger." He paused and then continued. 

"The rumor was that Cailan didn't want to marry her and was stalling hoping that Maric would live long enough for the prospect of Anora having children to be so remote that he would be 'forced' to marry another. But when Maric disappeared and there was talk of giving the throne to... well, to your father. He married Anora to appease Loghain and his implied promise of guidance satisfied the nobility, who did not have much faith in Cailan as king. He was so very young in experience if not years. He seemed such a child." 

Teagan paused again, lost in bittersweet memories. "It is hard to accept that such a man, full of hope and good will and life... could be dead, but... forgive me." He started to shake his head. "Maric should have prepared him better, but perhaps he didn't know how. The talk was that Bryce was a better choice and would ensure the stability and future of Ferelden. I do wonder with all that has happened, if they were not right." 

Teagan stopped for a moment, looked at the floor and then gently said. "I must ask a question. I hate to bring this up, and hope that the answer will not be upsetting to you, but I heard that Bryce and Eleanor were killed. No one seemed to have any more information than that. I pray... Is that true?" 

Kathryn took a deep breath. This was the first time she had to say it out loud. "Yes, they were both killed." 

Teagan bowed and shook his head clearly fighting sorrow and anger. When he looked back up he asked, "What happened? If you know and will tell me?" 

"Arl Howe's men attacked the castle after the army had left for Ostagar. They... slaughtered everyone. I escaped." Kathryn said with no emotion. It felt like someone else was talking. 

Teagan could not keep the anger out of his face. "I am so very sorry. I knew Bryce, and considered him a friend. He was a... good... man and Eleanor a fine... fine lady. It is hard to believe... to believe that they are gone." 

Several moments passed and then Teagan said thoughtful. "Although I do believe Howe capable of such behavior... I do wonder at the timing of it all, the attack on Highever, the onset of Eamon's illness and then the death of the king..." 

Kathryn had been thinking much along the same lines. "Yes, I have no doubt that Loghain had something to do with the attack and the arl's illness." 

Teagan nodded, glad to see that the obvious conclusion had not escaped her. "He seems bent on taking control of the country and the best way to do that is to make sure there is no one else who can. Take out the two men most likely to stand in his way, Eamon and Bryce. Eamon could stand up to Loghain and challenge him at the Landsmeet, while Bryce, given that Cailan had no heir would most likely have been chosen to be king. Loghain has much to answer for." Teagan said with emotion. 

After a few moments, Kathryn asked, "May I ask you something?" 

"Please do." Teagan said with a smile. 

"Tell me about Eamon." She said. 

Teagan smiled widely. "I will and gladly too. Eamon is a good man, well respected and well loved by both the nobility and common people for his kindness, temperament and wisdom. For me personally, he is much more than just my older brother. Our father died during the war. Eamon was not yet a man and I only eight. I barely remember Father, our mother I remember not at all. Rowan was fighting with Maric with the rebellion and afterwards married Maric, so Eamon basically raised me. One could not ask for a better brother or friend." 

"And you knew Alistair as a child." Kathryn asked. 

"Oh, yes, I lived at the castle until I was appointed Bann of Rainifere, about eight years ago." Teagan said. 

"If I may say, you seem fond of him." She said. 

"Yes, it was hard not to be. I was quite fond of him when he was a child and look forward to getting to know the man he has become." Teagan said with warmth. 

"What was he like?" Kathryn asked. 

"He was a delightful child, a joy, truth be told, bright, generous and kind. He was always into something or other some adventure or mischief. He was good-hearted but he did have a willful streak and a temper that could be frightening in one so young. We all loved him, everyone in the castle, especially Eamon." Teagan said. 

"Then why did he send him away?" Kathryn asked. 

Teagan's expression became serious. "Isolde insisted. When she became pregnant with Connor, she threatened to return with the child to Orlais. Eamon was in a difficult position. If Alistair had been Eamon's child, perhaps he may have refused, but despite all, I do believe that he was trying to do the best for everyone." 

Teagan paused seemingly considering exactly how to best phrase what he wanted to say. "I know my brother loves Isolode and she is a devoted wife and mother, and for that I respect and love her as my sister but... she made life miserable for Alistair. Eamon had to do something. He hoped the monastery would be good for him, give him an education and a better future, but Alistair was so furious and hurt by it. Eamon was simply heartbroken." Teagan finished. Kathryn could see that this subject was a sore and painful one for him. 

"But didn't she know that Alistair wasn't the arl's child but Maric's?" Kathryn waited to see Teagan's reaction. 

He looked at her eyes slightly widened, but only slightly. He paused for a moment and then said. "Oh yes. Even if she doubted his word the resemblance between him and Cailan, especially when they were younger was remarkable. It is in fact how Alistair figured out the true identity of his father, in the first place." 

"He figured it out." Kathryn asked curious, for a child to figure that out was... impressive. 

"Yes, he was never to know, of course, but the simple fact was that he looked so much like Cailan. After the one occasion they met, Alistair started asking if they were brothers. So Eamon decided to tell him the truth." 

"Isolde knew, of course, and while she hated the rumors, it was more than that. It was so accepted that Alistair was Eamon's child and he was so well loved by everyone, servant, commoner and noble alike, that she feared that when the time came Alistair may be named as arl instead of Conner. Since she surmised and rightly so, I might add, that nearly any Ferelden would much rather have a bastard as an Arl than someone who was half Orleasian. She was just trying to protect the future of her child." Teagan said apologetically. 

"Still you can't condone what she did." Kathryn said stern. 

"No, I can't and don't. Eamon and I argue about it still. It is my great regret that I could not care for him myself. But I was not given the lands as bann for another two years and by then it was too late. Eamon still loves him. I know Alistair won't believe that but it truly broke Eamon's heart that Alistair took it so hard. He even spent months repairing..." Teagan looked up to see Alistair walk into the Chantry and up to Teagan. Kathryn quickly excused herself and left the two of them alone. 

16.2 Teagan 

Both men watched as Kathryn walked out of the chantry. Alistair turned back to Teagan and said. "I... I didn't mean to interrupt." 

"Oh, no, you didn't." Teagan lied. "She was just reporting your group's successes and the current conditions. At this point, we were merely trading pleasantries." 

"Oh... good." Alistair said. Teagan took a good look at him. The resemblance was plain, if less than when he was younger. He was nervous, when he was a child he would fidget incessantly, but now he stood still as a soldier, as a warrior does. No doubt the chantry had beat that out of him, probably quite literally. He thought sadly. He wondered how much of the boy he knew remained in the man before him, how much of his spirit remained unbroken, how much he even remembered of his time at the castle. "I... I wanted... how have you been? I mean before... now isn't good, I know... but..." 

Apparently, quite a bit. Teagan thought. "Well, I was appointed Bann of Rainifere, nearly eight years ago. I have done well. The area is thriving. It is nice there, not so cold as Redcliffe." He said. 

"Are you married? Have any children?" Alistair asked. 

"No," Teagan responded. "I never found the time or the right person, I guess." 

"You should... children, I mean. You'd... be good with them." Alistair said. Teagan smiled warmly, understanding perfectly what he meant by that and why he had said it, and it touched him deeply. 

"You have no idea how glad I am to find out you are alive." Teagan said with warmth. "When I heard that all the Grey Wardens had died, I assumed you had too..." 

"No, we... wait..."Alistair looked at Teagan curiously. "How did you know I was a Grey Warden? Did... Cailan send word?" He asked somewhat incredulous. He doubted that, but he didn't have a better explanation. 

"No, Eamon knew within days of your recruitment and told me then." Teagan said. 

"But... how did the Arl know?" Alistair asked confused. 

"The brothers at the monastery sent him word." Teagan said. 

"But... why?" Alistair asked. 

Teagan hesitated, he should really hear this from Eamon but he was not in a position to inform him, and there may not be another opportunity. "When the brothers at the monastery asked Eamon to stop coming to see you, he only agreed if they sent him regular reports on your well-being. He's been getting them for years now. The one about your recruitment was, of course, the last." 

"What!?" Alistair said loud enough to draw looks from a few of the others in the chantry. He lowered his voice and said. "They asked him to stop! Why?" 

"Because you refused to see him and after each of his visits, they told Eamon that you would become depressed and difficult. You were already having trouble... adjusting. They thought it would be best if he stopped coming to see you altogether. He only agreed if they wrote to him about you and reported if you needed anything." Teagan said. There was no way Alistair could have known that, and must have spent the years since then thinking that Eamon had just stopped, stopped visiting and no doubt stopped caring about him, when in fact nothing could be further from the truth. 

"When he found out that you were going to be trained as a templar, he was very upset. You had been sent to the monastery to gain and education and a future, as a brother or scholar or priest. So that you would be safe and taken care of, not to be trained to fight malificarum and abominations. He even wrote to the Grand Cleric but she said that you had shown such great promise as a warrior that it must be the Maker's will that you be a templar and there was nothing he could do." Teagan said. 

"No, there was nothing 'he' could do." Alistair said with a great deal of bitterness. Teagan knew that he was referring to the fact that Maric could have interceded, but wouldn't have. Teagan could see the resentment and the anger he carried and that, at least in Teagan's opinion, he had every right to. But he could also see how he fought with the knowledge that the Arl had not abandoned him completely and not of his own volition. It must be a lot to take in. Alistair seemed lost in a daze and mumbled something and turned and hurried out of the chantry. 

16.3 Roland 

Kathryn walked up to where Roland was sitting and sat down next to him. The sun was just starting its decent. They had done all they could and were waiting for nightfall. 

"I wanted to tell how much good it did me to talk with you last night, of the castle, of everyone. At first all I could think of was that night but now, I can remember them well, think of the good times there too." Roland said, feeling that not only his body was healing but his heart and spirit too. 

"Yes, it was good." She said. 

Roland continued. "But you know there was a part of that past, of... our past at the castle, of us growing up, that we didn't talk about. A part that I still hold very dear." 

Kathryn looked at him and smiled. "Yes, I know. As do I." 

"His lordship was very understanding and I am very grateful to him for not sending me back to my father. I didn't understand why things had to be that way. I thought that if we cared for each other all else should not matter but it does and I can see that now. We were young and foolish to risk so much, but I do not... cannot regret it any of it." He said with emotion. 

"Nor I." She said. 

He turned to face her, catching and holding her eyes. "I wanted to tell you, that I still... care for you. I never stopped... caring for you. I made and oath and stood by it, but it didn't change how I felt... how I still feel." 

"I had hoped that one day we may find ourselves in this position, where those differences and distinctions didn't matter." He kept going not wanting to give her a chance to answer, not yet. "I know it was long ago, and much has happened since. We are not the same people we were then. But I have, for all these years, held the hope that you still carried some feeling for me. It is not so foolish to hope that it is not too late for us." 

Kathryn started to say something but he stopped her. "I know now is not the time. I only ask that you think on these things, please." He said nearly out of breath. 

"I will." She said and smiled. "Now, get some rest, we won't get much tonight." 

16.4 Alistair 

Alistair sat by the windmill, looking up at the castle. He starred at it a long time, not really thinking for in truth he didn't know what to think or feel for that matter. So he just looked at it. He heard a noise and turned as Drake walked up. "Hello." Alistair said. Drake sat and then laid down next to him and then looked at Alistair. 

Alistair pointed to the castle. "I grew up there, you know." Drake looked at him curiously and whined. "Hmmm... okay." Alistair said, thinking. "Let's try again... when I was small..." Alistair pointed to himself and then made a motion to indicate a child sized version of himself. "...I lived in that castle." He then pointed to the castle. Drake looked at the castle for a moment and then back to Alistair and barked a single happy bark. Alistair considered. "You know, I really think that you understood me." Another happy bark. 

Alistair looked at Drake and then back at the castle. "I haven't seen it in ten years. You think I'd feel... something... looking at it now. But it's not home anymore... I guess it never was. I... I just hope... he's alright. I don't want things to... end like this. I said things... I shouldn't have... things I wish I could take back... but I was so angry... He'll forgive me, won't he? I... I was just a child. That's a good excuse, right?" He looked to Drake who tilted his head and just looked at him. "I understand now. I do. He was married and he had a responsibility to her. I get that. I wasn't even his child... maybe if I had been... I wish... doesn't matter..." He looked to Drake who was still listening intently to him or at least it looked like he was. 

He couldn't think about all that right now. Needed to think on something else. Well, that was easy enough, there was another topic that seemed to occupy this thoughts constantly. He looked at Drake. 

"Your mistress is impressive, isn't she?" Drake let out a happy bark, very emphatic. "Of course you think so or else you wouldn't have imprinted to her, would you?" Another happy bark. And she was impressive, just today he had seen her intimidate a battle-hardened dwarf, give comfort and hope to a grieving father, talk a frightened child out of a closet, persuade a Revered Mother to lie, and then there was the fact that they were here at all, helping to defend the village. True, it wasn't directly involved in stopping the Blight, but leaving all these people to be killed by monsters, that simply couldn't be the right thing to do and he was glad that she agreed. 

He had seen her and Roland talking in confidence. He looked at Drake. "Roland, Ser Gilmore, he's a good man, right? I mean, aren't dogs supposed to know things like that?" Happy bark. "I thought so." He said and was glad of it. Really, he was... he was... 

He reached up to pet Drake and then pulled his hand back. Drake looked at him curiously. "I heard that you don't pet marbaris. That they are war dogs and that they don't like it." Drake let out a hurt whine. "Well, that's just what I heard." He said. 

"That's true, in general." Kathryn said as she walked up to where they were. "But Drake breaks all the normal mabari rules, don't you?" She said as she sat next to him and roughly scratched behind his ear and rubbed his neck. She looked to Alistair and continued. "He was a fifth puppy, only half the size of the others and his back legs were all shriveled up. They thought he was crippled." 

Alistair looked surprised. It was hard to imagine the fearsome dog next to him as a helpless crippled puppy. "Normally, they wouldn't... live." He said. 

"Or even be allowed to, but I persuaded Father to let me have him. I was sure that he was fine and that I could get him healthy and walking. Took a lot of work, didn't it boy?" Drake issued his happy bark. "They let me keep him. I guess they figured that as much as I'd taken care of him, he wouldn't obey anyone else." She explained. 

Alistair knew a little about marbaris and enough to know that wasn't true. Marbaris don't imprint based on love or gratitude or anything else of the kind. They only imprint to strength. There can be love without respect and respect without love. In this case it was clear there was both, but no, Drake saw something in Kathryn that made him revere her. He could relate. 

"But he is picky about who pets him. Father could but he wouldn't let Fergus nor Roland touch him. Just go slow and he'll let you know if it's alright." She said. 

"How will I know?" Alistair asked a little wary. 

"Trust me you'll know and you might even have a finger or two left." She smiled. "Here palm up, keep it below his eye level at first. Go slow and he likes being scratched behind the ears." 

Alistair turned his hand over and slowly reached it towards Drake who for his part looked at his hand but didn't react. He touched his neck and slowly stroked it with the back of his fingers. He turned his hand over and reached up to behind his ear. Drake turned his head towards him. After a few minutes of gentle to vigorous scratching, Alistair pulled his hand away. Drake gave a happy bark and then laid his head down. 

16.5 Alistair 

He looked back to her, she was smiling at Drake and then her serious face. He wasn't going to like this. "Why didn’t you tell me about your birthright?" She asked. 

He had really hoped that the discussion on the bridge would settle things, but he guessed not. "You never asked." He said a bit sheepishly. He should have told her, he knew that, especially with as well as she had taken the whole bastard thing. 

She looked at him, not amused in the slightest. "Actually I did ask, about the arl and if you knew who your father was? So why didn’t you tell me then?” 

This better be one of your best, because she isn't happy. In fact she looks angry and... hurt. He tried to come up with something good, something that would explain everything and make perfect sense and prevent he being upset with him, but he couldn’t think of anything and was left with the truth. 

"I suppose I rather liked you not knowing." He said embarrassed. 

"Why didn’t you want me to know? I mean I thought we were friends." She asked in disbelief. This wasn't helping the situation. 

"We are. At least, I thought… I hope will still be. It's just anyone who ever found out treated me differently. I was the bastard prince instead of just being Alistair. And things were going well… you know… with us. I didn’t want that to change." He said. He looked at her she didn't seem as angry or hurt and a little more thoughtful, that was at least a start. 

"I guess I can understand that." She said reluctantly. 

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry I didn’t tell you. I should have. I’m sorry. I am. " He hadn't meant to hurt her. In fact, he was actually surprised that she cared enough to be hurt by it. 

"Alistair, I... don't worry about it. No harm done." She said and for the most part it looked like she meant it. "You aren’t hiding anything else, are you?" She asked. 

"Besides my unholy love of fine cheeses and a minor obsession with my hair, no that's it." He said with a smile. She smiled back, maybe things would be alright between them again. He hoped so. But he also knew that it and the fact that he hadn't told her had changed their friendship. But on the plus said, she at least still considered him a friend. 

"Just... no more secrets, not between us." She said. 

"I can handle that." He said. 

"Wait," she said looking thoughtful. "So, that means that you're not only a bastard but a royal bastard, doesn't it?" She said coyly. 

He laughed. "Ha. I guess it does, doesn’t it?" She smiled at him. She did look at him differently, but that wasn't a bad thing he realized. It was the first conflict they'd had, and they had gotten through it. In fact, he liked this new look she had for him. There was more familiarity and understanding and... warmth than before. He smiled back. 

Behind them, the sun had begun to set. 

Chapter 17: Third Camp 

17.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn finished the rest of her ale, and moved closer to the fire. The last days had been intense. The attack on the village had been a terrible, chaotic battle but, thank the Maker, everyone had made it through, a bit worse for wear perhaps but alive. 

Teagan had told them about a secret passage into the castle. Before much more was said Isolde had appeared. Kathryn was already predisposed to dislike her just from all she had heard about her and nothing Isolde did or said improved her opinion of her. She insisted that Teagan go back with her to the castle alone, she seemed completely disinterested in what had happened at the village, managed to insult her and make a snide comment to Alistair and all the while giving Kathryn the impression that she wasn't being completely honest with them. 

Teagan agreed to accompany Isolde back to the castle. She had to give him points for bravery in addition to everything else. Both she and Alistair hated to let him go, but they didn't have much choice. 

After they had entered the castle, they met the mage Jowan in the dungeon. He admitted quite readily to poisoning the arl and that he had done so on the orders of Loghain. He had promised to save him from execution for being a blood mage, which didn't surprise Kathryn at all. Well, the part about Loghain being behind the arl's illness didn't surprise her but she wouldn't have marked Jowan for a malificarum, not that she had much, if any, experience of them. He claimed not to be responsible for the monsters, and somehow Kathryn believed him. He told them what Isolde had not, that Connor was a mage and that it was possible that he had done something unintentionally to cause a tear in the Fade that would allow the monsters and demons to enter the castle. He seemed forthcoming and repentant and... nice. 

After they had finally fought their way through the castle they discovered that Connor had been possessed by a demon. Isolde had hidden that fact, wanting to protect him. Kathryn decided for certain that she really didn't like Isolde nor did she respect or would she ever trust her. Perhaps all she had done was out of a mother's love, overdeveloped and overprotective and single minded, but it was now defying all reason. How could they possibly save him if they had no idea of what to save him from? And to let them walk into the castle without telling them what they may be facing was dangerous to everyone. 

Fortunately, they were able to defeat the demon, driving it into hiding and freeing Teagan from its hold, but there seemed to be little choice but to slay the poor child. She had thought of Oren, and how Connor had only tried to help his father and how he should never had been in this position to begin with. Jowan claimed that he knew a spell using blood magic that could open a portal and allow a mage to enter the Fade and confront and slay the demon there and free Connor. But that spell required a lot of blood, in fact all of it. Isolde volunteered to be the sacrifice. The prospect of Isolde dying instead of the boy did not bother Kathryn. She would even be fine with the use of blood magic given the extreme circumstances but she was not willing to risk one of her party, in this case Morrigan, facing a demon alone in its realm with only Jowan's magic holding the portal open. Of course the other option, confronting and trying to defeat the demon here, didn't thrill her either. 

Alistair suggested seeking the help of the mages. But that meant leaving Redcliffe with the demon still in possession of Connor and traveling to the tower. She considered. The demon had been weakened, the mage's tower was only a day's journey, Jowan was there and seemed willing to help keep a handle on the situation. Her decision made, they set out for the circle tower. 

They had camped for the night. They needed rest before the trip across the lake. Dinner was quiet, if substantial. They had raided the castle for food and other supplies, but they were all tired and engrossed with their own thoughts. 

Kathryn's mind was occupied not with the events of the last days but of events so many years ago. Then she had passed only her fifteenth winter and Roland his seventeenth. She still was considered a child and he was a squire. But all her frocks had gotten too small in the chest and hips and she had traded them for dresses designed for a woman. Roland for his part was as tall and broad-chested as any of the castle's soldiers. 

While they had always been tutored together, more and more their studies differed. The time they did share became precious. They went on fewer adventures and talked more, speaking of philosophy and history and poetry and such. One day they had went far from the castle grounds on a walk and had gotten caught in one of the infrequent but sudden storms the coast is known for. They had taken shelter under a canopy of branches. In the rain, cut off from the castle, from all they had known and been and from all the things that they didn't yet understand he had moved a stay lock of hair from her face and kissed her. 

After that, they stole moments when they could. They were too young to consider or care about a future and or the risks if they were caught, of the damage to her reputation or his career. They wrote each other notes, held hands, and kissed in every part of the castle. They had been so careful, but not careful enough, it seemed. For somehow Father had discovered them, even catching them in the act. He had ordered her to her room. She said not to punish Roland. She would take all the blame. He told her to go to her room. As she lay on her bed, thinking for the first time about what may happen now that they were discovered. She had cried and pleaded with Mother, who had tried to explain why it would not work, why this couldn't be, things she didn't care to hear or understand. 

After what seemed an age, Father came to talk to her. She pleaded with him but he was not angry only firm. He wasn't going to send Roland away but required her word that it end, now. There would be no punishment, and it would never be mentioned again. But if he discovered either had broken their word to him, he would send him back home. Kathryn knew how much he wanted to be a knight, and couldn't imagine the shame that being sent back would cause both to him and his father. She gave her word. 

They had never spoken about what had happened until today. At their next meeting, it was all pleasant formality. It broke her heart and she could tell his too, but there was nothing they could do. Neither her parents or Fergus held it against him and after the first awkward meetings, things returned to normal. With time it got easier, seeing him about the castle. Soon she was presented at court and was 'my lady' and then he was knighted and became 'Ser Gilmore' and the social distinctions became an insurmountable wall between them. 

But after some time had passed, and the feelings became simply a bittersweet memory, she had begun to wonder if it had all been real. Had it truly been love or just a friendship that had been mistaken for more, the unavoidable developing of adult emotions from childlike ones, the loss of innocence as they matured? Had it really just been the passing and romantic notions of the young or had they been real and true feelings, now buried and muted because they knew that they could not act on those feelings? And how does one tell the difference? 

True feelings don't just disappear, and she had to admit that she did still feel... something for him, even after these years. They are not the same people that they were then, but are they that different? Was it not worth exploring? Did she not owe it to herself and to the young woman who had shed tears and wished for just this opportunity? Did she not owe this to him, for all he had done and meant to her? If for no other reason than he had remained behind holding the gate, refusing to even try to escape to allow her to flee the castle. He stayed knowing that he would likely die or worse at the hands of Howe's men. Yes, he owed a duty to the family but looking into his eyes, she knew that he was doing this for her. 

"Come with us." She pleaded. 

"If I do that, you won't make it out before the gates fall." He said with the surety of relating a simple fact. 

"Then I'll stay and help you hold the gate." She said determined not to leave him, not like this. 

"They won't hold." These were facts he had thought through, understood the ramifications and realities of them. He was grim and set and she knew she couldn't convince him otherwise. 

"Please go, now while you have the chance." His voice becoming unsteady, panicked at the time they were losing. He told them about where he thought they could find father. 

"Bless you Ser Gilmore. Maker watch over you." Mother had said. 

"Maker watch over us all." He replied and started to turn to the gate. 

"Roland!" She said. 

He stopped not wanting to look at her. "Please… go… please." He begged her. 

There was so much to say, gratitude, regret and... many emotions she didn't have words for. She stepped forward taking his head in her hands and kissed him. She felt his arms around her and then he pulled back, looking her in the eyes. His face full of anguish and determination, "Please... go... now." He turned and ran to the gate. 

She remembered the sharp pain in her heart, the sorrow and devastation of having to leave him there. Is that not the other side of caring... of love? Is that not proof enough of something there? Did she not deserve to find out what else might still be there? What might be there now? 

But... whatever it was, it was not the passion, adoration and devotion of the great loves of the bards or even of her parents. The kind of love that she had wanted, had always hoped for... But was she willing to wait her entire life for something that may not happen, for something that may not even be possible for her? Perhaps only some people, romantic, emotional, sentimental people can truly love like that, and she was not one of them. 

And perhaps more importantly, she had seen what those kind of emotions had done, had cost not only her but others, to love another that you do not wish to live without them… did she even desire such a thing now? Such strong emotions exacted a high price. One she was not sure she was willing to pay even for the benefit they gave. She knew how it felt to have those she loved ripped away from her. To voluntarily give your heart like that, so completely, to another, to allow yourself to be subjected to the devastation of their loss, hardly seemed a good thing. Such romantic notions sound good to the young and idealistic who do not know better, and in songs of bards. 

The feelings she had for Roland were ones based on years of friendship, a history, familiarity, and real affection. He was a good man, strong, kind, true, loyal and brave. He cared for and respected her. He knew her and valued her for her spirit, personality and character. What he offered, was love and devotion, friendship and understanding, compassion and companionship, a relationship both safe and comfortable. Love, but of the quiet kind, gentle and peaceful. Was that not enough? Could she not be content with that? Was that not more than most people had? What else could she ask for? 

17.2 Leliana 

Leliana walked up to where Alistair was sitting, lost in his own thoughts. She waited until he noticed her, a time of several moments. When he finally did, he seemed startled that she was there. 

"May I?" she said indicating the place next to him. 

"Sure." He said. 

Leliana sat down next to him and watched the fire for a minute. Then she said. "Kathryn may have told you that before I was a lay sister in Lothering, I was a traveling minstrel in Orlais." 

"She did mention that and that your mother was from Denerim." He said. 

"Yes, she served an Orleasian lady and after the war, when the lady returned to Orlais, she took my mother with her. She was a kind lady, no doubt much like the arl." She said. Alistair looked at her curiously. "My mother was with child and unmarried and she could have dismissed her but she didn't. Then after my mother died she even let me stay with her when she could have turned me out on the street. Our stories are not that dissimilar, no?" Leliana said. 

"No, they're not." Alistair said thoughtful. He turned and smiled at Leliana. She smiled back. "So, do you know... I mean..." 

"Who my father is? No, I was very young when my mother died. I once asked Cecilie but she said that she didn't know. My mother had never told her and she didn't feel it her place to ask." She said matter of fact. 

Then after a moment, she said more wistfully. "When I was younger, I used to imagine all kinds of stories about my father. Who he was? What happened to him? Why he would abandon my mother? That he was a noble married to a wicked foreign princess who cast a spell to make him forget my mother or a soldier who was injured and lost his memory or even a... spy who had to stay away from us to protect us from his enemies or that he was going to return for my mother after making his fortune but was killed before he got there, dying in the street, her name on his lips. You know, all terribly, romantic, tragic melodrama." She said with a smile. 

"I wish I didn't know who my father was." Alistair said. "It's brought me nothing but trouble to be honest." 

"I think it is different here than in Orlais and different for boys, no?" She asked. 

"I don't know." He said. "It wasn't much of an issue at the castle, of course. There everyone assumed I was the arl's child. The monastery though... well, the boys from noble families called me bastard and basically ignored me..." 

"...or beat you up when the brother's were not looking, yes?" She asked. 

"Well that too." He said with a shrug. "...and the poor ones, they thought I put on airs and wouldn't have anything to do with me." 

"You? Put on airs?" She laughed. 

"Yes, or so they said. The one thing they could all agree on is that I didn't belong to either group." He said. Leliana knew he was making a joke but she could tell there was some real pain there. 

"Must have been lonely." She said gently. 

"I guess." Alistair said. "It's not like I had much to compare it to." There was a quiet and comfortable silence, as they listened to the fire and the sounds of the night. 

She liked him, his self-deprecating sense of humor and easy manner. Despite having a difficult childhood, he wasn't reserved or standoffish at all. It was easy to see that he had a tender but strong heart. She liked him. She liked him a lot. 

"So, being a minstrel, what do you do? I mean... do you play the flute or harp?" He asked. 

"I play the lute and some harp. I sing, so no flute. Tell stories and dance. I always had a love of the old tales. My mother used to tell me the old myths and legends. Many are so beautiful and sad. Do you know the old tales?" She said. 

"I studied history at the monastery. The chant was drilled into us, of course. Then when I became a Grey Warden I learned all I could about their history." He said. 

"Even the tales of Calenhad the Great?" She asked. 

"No, not those. I mean, I do know them, but I already knew them." Leliana looked at him curiously. "I... I had a book... borrowed it from the monastery's library, Tales of Calenhad. I'd read it when I couldn't sleep, which was a lot." He admitted. 

"I see." She said. "How fascinating. The bastard prince who hates his birthright so much that he keeps a copy of the tales of his ancestor under his pillow." She said with a coy smile. 

"Don't say it like that. You make it sound like I was secretly... proud of it or... something... Really, it's just a good story... and it was the only name I recognized on the book covers... I was only ten... and... not being convincing, am I?" He asked. 

"No." She replied. 

"Well, I guess I was looking for a connection to someone." He admitted. 

After a slight pause, where she determined that was enough teasing about his birthright for one evening, she asked. "So, do you play or sing or anything?" 

"Me, no not at all. Not something they taught at the monastery. It might accidentally be construed as fun. But I can... no." He said. 

"What?" She asked intrigued. 

"No, nothing." He said short. 

"No, tell me. What secret talent do you possess?" She said given a clear indication that she didn't intend to let him out of telling her. 

"I can... draw, a bit." He reluctantly admitted. 

"Indeed! You mean with pencil and paper." She asked. 

"Well, charcoal and linen. One of the servants at the arl's would make these sticks of charcoal that the other servants would use to write with. When I was young they gave me some to play with and a linen cloth over a piece of wood to draw on. When I was done they could wash it and I'd start over. But I got pretty good. Haven't done it in a long time though." 

"You should. I'd like to see a display of your art." She said. He smiled shyly. She looked at the position of the moon, and reluctantly said. "Well, I have second watch and better get some sleep. Good night, Alistair." 

"Good night, Leliana." 

17.3 Kathryn 

Roland was sitting by the fire nursing a mug of ale and watching the flames. Kathryn walked up to him. He looked up at her and quickly stood. 

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" She asked. 

"No, not at all. I was just thinking about what happened. I am glad that at least we are attempting to save that poor child's life. He was just trying to help his father, and in a position he never should have been put into. He should be at the tower, so that he and others would be safe. I understand a mother's love and wanting to protect your child and that the tower is not the best of places, but there are reasons why it is there, to prevent this type of thing. I blame the mother. But while I am and I know you are also uncomfortable leaving the situation as it is, I am glad you decided not to use blood magic, especially since there is another alternative." He said. 

"The spell was too risky. I wasn't going to put Morrigan in that position. I do hope the situation will hold until we are able to return, and that the mages are willing to help us." She said. 

"And may I say that I am very pleased with your leadership. Not that I had any doubts but I am impressed with your courage, heart, decisiveness and cunning." He said with warmth. 

"Thank you." She replied a little stunned but pleasantly so. 

"I do wish to talk to you about something." He said. 

"Of course." She said curious. 

"I wanted to speak to you about Alistair. Well, not him but his parentage." He said tentative. 

"That's not a problem for you, is it?" She asked cautiously. 

"Of course not. I don't hold that against him. He has no choice in the circumstances of his conception and birth or the actions of his parents. In fact, I feel badly for him, to have not known either parent and be cast aside unwanted and then to be subjected to the scorn and condescension of others and ostracized for it. I wouldn't wish that upon my enemy. He is a good man, and deserved better and nothing about his past or heritage changes my opinion of him." He said sure. He then took a breath and continued. 

"But the fact that he hid that information from you, I know you are not pleased with that. No doubt you feel betrayed, but I ask that you do not. That cannot be an easy matter to reveal to anyone not knowing how they will react. To subject yourself to the mortification of such a confession would be difficult, at best. And by his own admission, he has had people react badly to that information and treat him differently because of it." 

"You are a noble, in fact, the highest of all the nobles in Ferelden, second only to royalty itself. You were raised by good people to have regard for all no matter their standing, and you treat all with dignity and respect. You must forgive me, but you have not experienced nor do you understand the arrogance and vanity of the nobility and the repugnance and disdain many have for lower classes, and what many no matter the social class have for those outside the bounds of society, such as bastards." 

"My father is a minor lord, but I have had my share of derision and pretentiousness from those who consider themselves better than I. I cannot imagine what he has endured. He does not know you as I do, and could not know that such things wouldn't matter to you. So I ask on his behalf, that you take all this into consideration." He said. 

"You are a good man, Roland. He is lucky that you would stand up for him like this and I shall do as you ask." She said well pleased. 

"Thank you." He said simply. 

"Now, if that is all, there is something I wish to discuss with you." She said. 

"Please." He said. 

"I have thought about what... about us." She said her voice dropping. 

"I see..." He said and swallowed hard. "...and may I ask what conclusion you have reached." He said as he took a small step closer to her. 

"Much has happened in these last weeks, much has changed. Not only our circumstances but we have changed. We are not the people we were years ago, but we are not even the people we were weeks ago. It is hard to remember those times and those emotions, to look back on them with a discerning eye to see what they truly were or what they could have been but it is also not necessary for what has been is done. We only need to know if there is something here now and to look at what could be." 

She paused, looked down and then back up to him. "I care for you. I have always cared for you and nothing has changed that. I believe that we owe it to ourselves to find out what can be for us now." She said. 

He smiled a smile of happiness and relief. "My dear Kathryn..." He said as he stepped forward, took her in his arms and gently kissed her. 

17.4 Alistair 

Alistair watched Leliana disappear into her tent. She had a nice smile and it didn't feel like he was getting punched in the chest when she smiled at him. It felt... nice. Hmmm... did that just happen? Did he really just sit there and have a normal conversation and all with a woman, a 'hot' woman come to think of it, and didn't stick his foot in his mouth? And it was... nice... really... nice. 

He looked over in time to see Kathryn walk to where Roland was sitting. Roland stood up when she approached. Whatever they were talking about seemed important. Roland was speaking and then when he stopped, Kathryn nodded approvingly. Then she began to speak. He saw Roland tense, as though preparing for some information he might not like and then step towards her. Then when she stopped speaking, relief and happiness in Roland's face and he leaned forward and... kissed her. 

Stunned, Alistair stared for just a moment, and then quickly turned away. He didn't want to watch, didn't want them to catch him watching. It was rude and impolite to watch such a... moment. 

He knew this was coming. He had heard the way that Roland had spoken of her. About how they had fancied themselves in love, been separated and how now given the change in circumstances, there was a chance for them. He had even hoped that it would work out for them, they both deserved this... really. It shouldn't affect him like this, but it did. Seeing that felt like a strong kick to his stomach. 

He thought about when he had first seen her at Ostagar. How just seeing her had affected him. The conversation and the possible... flirting. Most likely, he had been wrong and it wasn't flirting at all. He had so little experience in such things. He had probably imagined the whole thing, not the conversation of course but the intent, read too much into her being nice and personable. 

Of course, maybe it had been flirting, maybe she had been just the tiniest bit interested, but with her lost love returned... a knight, she had loved for years, who had sacrificed his life to save her... Well, he couldn't even hope to compete with that. But he had hoped, hadn't he? Against all reason and knowledge, but isn't that the very nature of what hope is? Cruel in its determination to hold onto the idea that the impossible is somehow possible. 

It was just that she was the first woman he had ever felt those kinds of feelings for, the first who had aroused those types of feeling in him, either emotionally or romantically or even... physically. Granted he had been raised in a monastery but he had been out six months, and for most of that been in Denerim. He'd seen lots of women, been around and talked to them and this was the first time anything close to that had happened. 

He had thought that something like this just wasn't possible for him and he had been fine with it. And so he hadn't lost anything... not really, except that wasn't how it felt. He liked her and they were friends. It was enough, more than he had ever expected, to be honest. And it was enough... it would have to be. 

He was happy for them. He would be happy for them... soon, but somehow seeing them together made him felt alone. He should be used to that by now and was... mostly, but somehow... it... this... was so much worse. 

He turned away and went to bed without looking back at them. 

Chapter 18: The Tower 

18.1 Kathryn 

They were able to find a boat to take them across the lake. It couldn't take them directly to the tower but to the docks on shore, from there they could get the ferry. Even from across the lake you could see the top of the spire. Alistair looked at it with an odd mix of dread and relief. If things had worked out differently, he could easily already be there, or someplace else equally as bad or worse. 

For the thing was, he wasn't prime templar material. So, they may have wanted him out of the way, exiled to the farthest reaches of the Chantry, where he couldn't cause trouble or they may have wanted him right under their nose where they could keep an eye on him. Neither option thrilled him. 

Not only did he not fit the stoic and grim templar stereotype, the Chantry normally looked for skilled warriors with unshakable faith in the Maker that nearly constituted a religious fervor with absolute loyalty to the Chantry. Obedience being much more important than a person's moral character. In addition, they need an emotional distance to be able to carry out their duties. None of which he had. Well, he had the morals and skills, at least according to the Chantry. 

When he was first brought to the monastery he had been put through what he could see now was an assessment process, given wooden weapons and told to strike a practice dummy and asked a multitude of questions. 

After it was over, he remembered overhearing an older templar talking to the Grand Cleric. At the time, he hadn't understood what they were talking about or that they were talking about him. 

"He's got talent, quite impressive, actually. But I don't think he is a good choice for training." The older templar said grim. 

"Why not?" The Grand Cleric had asked. 

"He is willful with a temper, strong morals and caring. Definitely not the type to obey orders without question especially if they went against those morals. He is not pious or devoted to the Chantry at all. He is an 'orphan' and only here because there is no one to take care of him and he doesn't want to be here. The skills are there but personality and character are not suitable. A real shame." He said. 

"I see. It does seem to be a shame to waste such talent." The Grand Cleric said and then looked thoughtful and finally said. "If he is here, the Maker must have a reason for it to be so, and a reason to bless him with such talent. Perhaps training will fix those issues?" 

She looked to the man who considered and after some moments, said "Maybe... but I doubt it." 

She considered and then said. "I have faith, have him begin training." 

The odd thing was that at first he wanted to be a templar, up until the point he figured out what they actually did. What he had really wanted was to be a knight... but he couldn't be that, because he was a commoner. Only nobles get to be knights, the Arl had told him. But, he had protested, his father was the king, why couldn't he be a knight? The Arl then had to try to explain to him what a 'bastard' was and that he was one. All Alistair had really understood was that he could never be a knight. Even being templar, he wouldn't be allowed to be a knight. But at least he could learn to fight. As it turned out, they were right. He wasn't a good fit. Perhaps as they had said, the Maker did have a reason for him being there. It just hadn't involved him being a templar. 

He looked up from these remembrances as Kathryn sat down next to him. Fittingly, she asked him about the templars. Alistair explained that they are essentially trained to fight demons and abominations and hunt mages and that their talents drain mana and disrupts spells. He also mentioned how the Chantry uses lyrium addiction to control them. He had never become addicted to it, since you only start taking lyrium once you take your vows. At least, he hoped not. 

Thinking back he wondered if he hadn't been given lyrium without his knowledge. It seemed as though some of the other boys had. Many of them seemed to have no magical talents at all, and then suddenly they did. His own talents had developed slowly but consistently and he had never shown any of the symptoms of addiction that some of the other boys had. Nor had he shown any signs of withdrawal since leaving the monastery. And his talents now seemed just as powerful as full templars'. Perhaps the lyrium stays in your body for a long time or perhaps he tolerated it better than some of the others. Given that he had survived the Joining, that seemed likely. Maybe he hadn't been given as much as some of the others had. 

He remembered reading the theory that even non-mages have some level of magical talent, not enough to cast spells, of course, but some, and the level differs between people. If he had a higher level, maybe he didn't need as much lyrium or any at all, at least he hoped so. For the last thing he wanted was to be facing some darkspawn emissary and his abilities fail. But he’d just have to hope that didn’t happen. 

18.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn realized that her opinion of the Chantry seemed to get lower and lower by the hour. She tried to ask him more about his experience as a templar but he quickly deflected the question. She wasn't sure why he was so reluctant to talk about himself, but she would break him of it... eventually. 

He claimed that he was just not used to anyone asking him these things but she had to wonder if that was really all there was to it or if there was something else. As she listened to him she had to wonder if he had any idea how charming he was. 

Then he said that he enjoyed the discipline of the training the most. To be honest that answer surprised her. Not only was he not the religious sort but didn't seem the disciplined kind or at least not the kind to enjoy it. But had she mistook his personality for character? Just because you are self-effacing doesn't mean you are stupid or uneducated. Just because you are irreverent and have a sarcastic sense of humor doesn't mean you are undisciplined. In fact, now thinking about it, to have attained the skill level he had, would have taken a lot of training and discipline. She had misjudged him and usually she was so good accessing people. But for some reason he continued to surprise her, even now. 

They sat in a comfortable silence looking out over the water. Finally Alistair said. "So, you and Roland..." 

"Yes, me and Roland." Kathryn said with a smile looking down. After a moment she quickly continued, suddenly feeling the need to justify herself. "We were... in love... or at least we thought we were when we were younger, but a knight and a noble lady..." She shook her head, the rest not needing to be said. "...and now..." her voice trailed off. She looked up to Alistair. "He saved my life, you know... at the castle." Alistair was watching her, her expressions, how she spoke of Roland. It hurt, but he hoped it would be enough to kill... whatever this was he felt. She continued. "He stayed to hold the gate to delay Howe's men getting through until we... had a chance to escape." She swallowed hard, remembering that horrible night. 

"He's a... a good man." Alistair said quietly. 

"He is." She replied and turned to watch the water. 

18.3 Alistair 

Sure... let's just go to the tower and get the mages' help... how hard could that be? At worst, they say no, right? No, at worst, the entire tower could be overrun by demons and abominations. Who would have thought? Apparently everyone had decided that a blight was the perfect time to kill each other. Fantastic. 

They had been allowed into the tower to investigate what had happened and had quickly met a mage called Wynne. He remembered seeing her at Ostagar. They had agreed to try to save the Circle. 

He was glad his templar abilities had finally come into their own for they were getting a work out. Most of the mages they encountered were blood mages and attacked them on sight. They had made their way up the first couple levels and were now in the templar quarters. It seemed that all the remaining templars had been 'charmed' by demons and were doing their bidding. His thought about already being here if things had worked out differently, took on a new and frightening turn. 

As they walked through the halls, a door opened and a desire demon floated out followed by eight templars. He knew his job and immediately attacked the demon, trying to keep its attention and mostly succeeding. Finally the demon fell to the stone floor. He looked around and saw that only five people stood... and all of them were templars. 

Kathryn, Roland and Wynne all lay unconscious or worse on the floor. The demon and four of the templars were dead, but the other four were standing and now targeting him. He took his only health potion, while backing up to the wall to prevent them from surrounding him. He could see that two of them had not a scratch on them while the other two had only minor injuries. 

Four full templars in their massive armor and armed with swords, shields, a mace and a great sword against him. The odds were not in his favor. In fact, he would put a sovereign on the four, if he had one. His only other option, besides fighting this completely lopsided battle, was to run. He could probably lose a couple in the tower given their massive armor, which would greatly increase his odds of survival. But he knew that if he left the others here and they were still alive, they wouldn't be by the time he got back. He couldn't leave... wouldn't leave them... no matter what. 

This would be a battle of attrition. He had to trust in his training and talent, fight smart, at least a lot smarter than they did and somehow block out the pain and exhaustion, and not let fear or panic affect him. This is what discipline was for, right? 

He had to not think about the fact that if he fell, not only would he die, the rest of them would die, and there would be no more Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden and in all likelihood the Blight would destroy the country and kill everyone. Right, no pressure. He had to think about something else, and he had just the thing. 

He hadn't allowed himself to think about this particular subject, given that it just made the entire situation worse. That had been an exercise in discipline in and of itself. But given the circumstances, he would make an exception. He got set and waited for them to attack. 

Kathryn had never given any indication that she felt anything more for him than friendship. Some harmless and most likely meaningless flirting, but now he allowed himself to fantasize... he imagined her walking up to him with that coy smile and saying... 'Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?' That could happen, at the very least he knew he was not... bad looking. 

Then he could say... 'Why? Is this your way of telling me that you think I'm handsome?' 

'I'd rather not say.' She would say, saying it very clearly with her eyes and smile. 

'Oh, I get it. I'll get it out of you yet.' In fact, him trying to get it out of her would be a lot more fun. 'So, is this the part where I get to say the same?' Because he definitely thought she was. 

'Well, not unless you don't think so.' She might say being coy, because she knew she was and had to know he thought so. 

'Oh, I think so. I'll just spring it on you when it's a surprise.' He would say with a laugh. 

Of course she wouldn't have had to just bring it up like that. She could have replied when he said that he had hoped she would like him for who he was, that she did like him and not because of his blood. Or even that she found the idea of him being a prince... thrilling. Although since he didn't, he preferred she say something else... maybe that she felt lucky that she was there with him. 

The first templar went down. He was... fine, not good but fine. No major injuries despite getting hit by all four of them. He focused on the next one. He just had to systematically take them out, while staying on his feet. Bash, turn, pummel, dodge, attack, block, assault... but he was wearing out. 

Or maybe she could mention that she had been having dreams of them... making... mad love... in her tent. He actually didn't really understand what that meant but it sounded... hot. Or she could just ask him to join her in her tent... well, maybe not. He didn't know about that. He really wasn't ready for that, but... if they had been together for a while... well... then he'd be at least willing to give it a shot... Maker! He really hoped that if that time ever came he could think of a better response than that! Could he possibly sound like any more of an idiot? Well, probably... but he'd really have to work at it. 

He stunned the next and took advantage getting a critical hit on him and forcing him to the ground. He knew the templar armor and all its vulnerabilities. He forced his sword through a weak joint and the templar went down. He was weakening, bruised and bleeding and turned to face the last two templars. 

He wanted things, if there ever were 'things' between them, to be right... so maybe just start with a kiss. He'd never done that, of course. He knew you just pressed your lips to theirs. It didn't sound all that enjoyable but apparently it was. There was probably more to it than just that. But before that, probably need some kind of... confession of... feelings? 

He could say something like... 'I've come to care for you a great deal, despite the fact that we haven't known each other that long. I could just be imagining it, of course? Or maybe I'm just fooling myself? So, am I fooling myself or... it is at all possible that you might one day feel that way about me?' Actually that was pretty good. He'd have to remember that. 

The templar's mace caught the edge of his shield, pulling it away from him and nearly dislocated his shoulder. As it was he could feel the muscles pull and then tear. He tried to block the follow up strike but caught the blow in his side, and felt two ribs crack. Now it hurt to breathe. Every blow to the shield ripped the muscles in his shoulder further. 

He turned and bashed the other templar to the ground, nearly screaming in pain and breaking out into a cold sweat. He turned back to the other. He rammed him with his good shoulder. As the templar recovered and attacked, Alistair struck driving the blade under the plate chest piece and deep into the templar's stomach. Blood started coming out of the templar's mouth as he fell. Alistair pulled his sword back and turned in time to block the blow from the other templar. One more to go. 

Then she could smile that smile and say 'I already do feel that way about you.' 

Then he'd say something like 'Oh, so I fooled you, did I?' Making a joke there and then he could kiss her... a gentle, sweet, tender kiss. Something simple and easy and hopefully idiot-proof. 

Then just to make sure he hadn't... hadn't overstepped, he could ask her... if that was... if it was... too soon and she... and then she... could say how she'd... that she would... need more... more... testing just to make sure and he... and then he... would have to... arrange that, wouldn't he? 

He was exhausted and the pain was more than he could block out now. He saw the blow coming but he couldn't get his shield up in time. He took it flush to the chest and it knocked him back. His vision was blurry, and there was a ringing in his ears. He was unsteady, dizzy, his legs weak, he stumbled. He wanted to go to his knees, just till his head cleared, till the dizziness and nausea passed but if he did, he was dead. They all were. Blood dripped off his fingers and chin. He remained standing on nothing more than force of will. It was all he had left. 

Behind him he heard Kathryn groan. She was still alive. If he didn't kill this templar, he would kill her... or worse. He bowed his head and closed his eyes and took a painful breath. He thought about kissing her, holding her, having her pressed to him, her arms wrapped around him pulling him closer to her, he thought of his hands running over the curves of her body. He looked up. No. He had something else left. 

The templar charged. He dropped to a knee. The templar's strike went over his head. He swung, hitting the templar in the back of the leg. The templar fell to his knees. He got himself to his feet and bashed the templar to his back and stepped on his shield. The templar tried to pull the shield free instead of letting it go. It was over. Alistair thrust his blade through the templar's neck. Blood spurted out and pooled around him. He didn't even have the strength to pull his sword out of the body. 

He staggered over to where Kathryn was beginning to stir, dropping his shield in the process. He took off his helmet and let it fall to the floor. He stood watching her. Maker's breath! She was beautiful. He fell to his knees. Within moments she woke and seeing him there, sat up and grabbed him. "Alistair!" She cried. 

"I got four points." He said and then everything went black. 

18.4 Alistair 

Alistair was aware that he wasn't in as much pain as he should have been in. For a moment he thought that perhaps he was dead, which didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. 

"He's waking up." He heard Wynne say. Then he felt a hand on his head and magic... healing magic pour through him. Powerful stuff too, not the normal kind either. There was something different about it, but at this point he didn't care. 

He opened his eyes and looked up to see Kathryn walk up and sit next to him. She looked to Wynne who said "He'll be alright." Wynne handed him a potion. "Drink this." 

"You know what happened the last time someone told me that." He said with effort. 

She smiled and said "I'll check on... him." indicating Roland. She got up and left. 

Alistair looked to Kathryn. She looked concerned and grateful and... impressed. But he didn't want this to get too serious. He said. "You know I was thinking, I should get a bonus for fighting all four of them myself, and a demon too. Well, the demon was before, but still..." 

She looked at him and smiled and then said. "No." 

"No?" He asked. Well, maybe she wasn't that impressed. 

"No more points." She said. "Partners don't compete with each other." She said. "And I will tell you this... I never wish to draw my blade without you standing beside me." 

Alistair looked down and swallowed hard, making sure his voice was steady. "Well, if I have anything to say about it, you'll never have to." 

"And I promise you, that if it is at all possible you will never draw yours without me at your side." She said. 

"I will hold you... hold you to that." He said. 

"Good." She said with warmth. "We are in this together, you know." 

"That we are." He said with emotion. 

She grabbed his hand and gripped it hard. He closed his hand around hers and held it for a long moment. Then the strength in his hand failed and he let go. 

She withdrew her hand. "Rest now. We'll leave when you are ready." She stood up quickly and walked away. 

18.4 Alistair 

Alistair woke up and felt better. He started to get up and reached for the wall to steady himself. But before he could he heard Roland say "Here." He turned to see Roland with his hand extended. Alistair grabbed it and let Roland pull him to his feet. He kept hold of Alistair's arm till he was sure he was steady and could stand on his own. 

"Are you alright?" Roland asked. 

"Yes... mostly." Alistair said with sigh. 

"That was... impressive." Roland said wanting a stronger word but not being able to come up with one. "I know I... I thought we were done." 

"Well, so did I, to be honest." Alistair admitted. 

Roland laughed. "I see why the Grand Cleric didn't want to let you go. They lost one of their best knights that day." 

"Not really... I mean... I... wouldn't have been... I couldn't be a knight." Alistair admitted. "They don't let commoners be knights... or bastards for that matter." Alistair said matter of fact. Roland realized that this was the first time he had mentioned that fact to him. He had been there when he had told Kathryn in Redcliffe but they had not talked of it and Alistair didn't know how he felt about it. 

"Well, it's a damned shame that something you have no control over matters more in that regard than your character and talent. You have more courage, heart and will, than any ten knights I know put together. I'm proud to stand with you." Roland said. 

"Thanks." Alistair said softly. "We should probably get going." 

"Are you ready?" Roland asked. Even with healing, Alistair had taken a beating. 

"Ready to get out of here, yes. Reminds me why I didn't want to be a templar in the first place." Alistair said. 

He looked around and saw that Kathryn was talking to Wynne on the other side of the room, out of earshot. "Oh, there is something..." Roland stopped and waited. Alistair continued. "I just wanted... I hope that... well... good luck with Kathryn... you both deserve... this." 

Roland smiled and said. "Thank you. Come, let's get out of here." 

Chapter 19: Fourth Camp 

19.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn was relieved to be out of the tower. The fighting had been intense, especially the last battle with the mage Uldred or whatever Uldred had turned into. She had been able to do little more than stop him turning the other mages into demons and keeping those already turned, off of Alistair and Roland so they could concentrate on the Uldred-demon. Alistair was still recovering from the fight with the templars, and he did the best he could to keep at least part of Uldred's attention while Roland had to do the bulk of the damage. 

The Circle had been saved and despite the horrors they had seen in the end she stood with the mages. You cannot punish all for the actions of some or even most. Many had turned to forbidden magic, yes, but she wondered how much of that was caused by the situation they had been placed in, ironically to prevent just such a thing from happening. 

The mage Wynne had asked to come with them. She had proven a powerful ally, her healing talents and courage were impressive and she would no doubt be useful in their battles ahead. Kathryn was glad to have all the help they could get. Not only that, in many ways she reminded her of mother, same strong spirit, poise, and will... and perhaps tendency to nag. 

The First Enchanter had not only given his word that the Circle would honor their treaty and assist them with the blight, but had agreed to go to Redcliffe and help save Connor. Of course, considering they had just saved the Circle he would be hard pressed to refuse them much of anything. 

The group had camped to rest before the trip back across the lake to Redcliffe. Hopefully the situation was the same as they had left it. She hoped that she had not made a mistake by leaving the castle to get the mages' help since that had taken much longer than anticipated. But there was nothing she could do about that now but return and deal with whatever situation they found there. 

After everyone had settled in for the night, Kathryn went to see about Wynne for while she was a powerful mage, she was no spring chicken. She seemed all right if a little weary. 

Before Kathryn left Wynne asked her if she had ever seen an abominations before. 

"Every mage is vulnerable, no matter how accomplished or powerful. That is the first thing we learn. And over-confidence can lead to recklessness." Wynne said. "One slip... all it takes is one slip and everything you are is simply gone... replaced by madness. And there is no way back. Or at least that's what they say." Wynne said thoughtful. 

"But I thought there was a way to cure Connor, through the Fade?" Kathryn asked. 

"Yes, but from what you say Connor is not a true abomination. He is possessed by a demon but he, Connor, is still within his body. Such a possession of a mage happens when a demon is allowed into the host by the mage but the demon is not strong enough to take over completely. In that case, yes, it is possible to sever the tie between the demon and the mage in the Fade. But if a demon forcibly takes over the mage, severing their tie to this world, and takes over the mage completely, well, for them there is no cure. For you cannot cure the dead." 

Wynne seemed lost in her own thoughts. Kathryn said good night and turned away. 

19.2 Wynne 

Rest, she needed rest but she had a few things to do first. She prepared a couple potions to give to the boys... Although they were both grown men, they were younger than her... young enough to be her children and both had taken a beating today. This would help them heal and deal with the pain. 

The red-haired one whose name was Roland, Red-Roland. As she got older needed more reminders and ways to remember such things. He was finishing dinner. She handed him the potion and told him to take it before lying down, that it would help him to sleep and heal. He thanked her politely and warmly and asked if she needed anything. No, she replied. She would like to talk to all of them, get to know them better but now was not the time. They were all tired. 

She had gathered some information just from watching them but she was also a bit confused. Both of the boys were impressive warriors. The blond one... Alistair, she was positive she had seen at Ostagar with the Grey Wardens, but in the tower he had displayed the talents of a templar. Roland had the manner and skills of a knight and champion but was called by his first name by the others. Although, if he was a Grey Warden he would have given up his title. Yes, that must be it. 

The other slightly odd thing was that, she had talked to Kathryn in Ostagar and was sure she had been a recruit but it was very clear that she was now in charge. It was also clear that while the other two were very fond of her, they also respected her a great deal despite them being warriors and her being a rogue. Although, she did carry herself with poise and authority and had a strong will. It was easy to take orders from someone like that. She was eager to get to know them and hear their stories. The more she knew and understood them the better she could assist them. 

As she settled in for the night, she once again thought about what had happened to her at the tower. She had died. It was a difficult thing to comprehend but that it had occurred, she was sure. She had felt her life slip away from her and then she was back in her body and in this world. She knew that the spirit had somehow done this and that the spirit was now also here, bound to her, keeping her alive. Perhaps the spirit was simply trying to help and didn't know this would happen, perhaps this surprised the spirit as much as it did her. 

It was one of the few cardinal rules of magic that the dead cannot be brought back to life, cannot be cured. But she hadn't been cured of death, she was in fact still dead. If the spirit left as it probably could or if it was separated from her, she had no doubt she would 'die' again. Therefore, technically, she was an abomination. But yet she still remembered who she was and had been, she still felt like herself, still had her own hopes, her own fears, still wanted the same things. She still enjoyed plum wine and a good book. She was still 'her'. Somehow, she wasn't an abomination but something different. Something that perhaps the Circle had no word for, nor knowledge of. 

But whatever she was, it begged the question of why? Even though the spirit was the means to this end, why had it been allowed? For the Grey Wardens, to arrive so soon after this had happened to her, seemed an incredible coincidence, and almost beyond the belief that it was only a coincidence. 

They say the Maker has abandoned this world but perhaps not entirely. Perhaps the Maker only gives us what we need to save ourselves. The situation seemed desperate with the Blight and the civil war but could what have happened to her be part of the solution? A small part, yes, but a part nonetheless. One of the hundreds of small bricks that may just form the road that will lead to their salvation. This thought, that this miracle of hers had meaning and purpose, gave her hope that while not all of them would survive, the Blight would be defeated, and the world would go on. 

She wasn't sure what she was to do. Well, heal them, of course, keep them fighting and healthy, but she had also taught. Perhaps part of her role was to give her knowledge and advice, to ask the questions and help them find the answers. This mission had been given to them and if they did not find a way no one would. They were all so young. Perhaps she could help just by caring and nagging, but whatever she could do she would try, do her best for as long as she was allowed. She just hoped it was enough. 

But in the back of her mind, she wondered and worried. This spirit felt familiar and good, as it had her entire life, but... was it possible she had been mistaken all this time. Was it possible that it wasn't what it seemed? Time has no meaning for a spirit... What if it wasn't a spirit but a demon that had fooled her? It would not be the first time a demon had tricked a mage. But it had shown no sign of trying to take over or even wanting control. It seemed more curious about the world, what it could see through her, what it could feel that she felt. It seemed content to observe and to help. And since there was no way for her to know for certain, she must accept the idea that what she felt to be true was true. She must have… faith. 

19.3 Kathryn 

After speaking to Wynne and seeing that she didn't need anything, Kathryn went to talk to Leliana. Kathryn had never been to Orlais but her father had and he had told her many stories of Orlais. There had been a few in particular that had caught her interest, especially being a rogue herself, and those were the ones of the Orleasian minstrels or bards. She determined to ask Leliana about them and perhaps confirm her own suspicions. She sat down next to her and breached the subject and waited to see how she reacted. She quickly confirmed that she had in fact been a bard in Orlais and had found herself in Ferelden. 

Kathryn didn't believe that was all there was to the story. Least of all because Leliana still hadn't told her why or how she was in Ferelden in the first place. However, Kathryn knew that she couldn't make her tell her if she didn't want to. 

A few moments passed then Leliana said "So, you and Roland are more than friends, it seems. You have a history, no?" 

Kathryn smiled and then said. "Well, when we were younger, many years ago now, we thought we were in love, but my parents put a stop to that pretty quickly. And now, well, we thought we would see what is there for us." 

Leliana smiled with eyes slightly wide. "Ah, a knight and a lady is not done, no? Oh! That is a good title. 'The Knight and the Lady' what a wonderful song that would make. It is such a romantic story, no? The two of you fall in love but are kept apart by your parents and are now reunited fighting together to save the world." Leliana said slightly lost in her own storytelling. "Of course, all the really good songs are tragedies." She said thoughtful. 

"Yes, everyone loves a tragedy if it is not happening to them." Kathryn said with a touch of cynicism. 

"But do not worry. I will make yours a tale of love and adventure with a happy ending." Leliana said. 

"I appreciate that." Kathryn said with a laugh. 

"But I do require details." Leliana said low and in confidence. "You know just so the story is authentic, yes?" 

"Of course." Kathryn laughed. 

A moment passed and then Leliana got a thoughtful look to her face and then said. "Alistair is a good man, no?" 

"Yes, he is. Very." Kathryn said. 

"Brave, true, strong, sense of humor, good heart in him, yes?" Leliana continued. 

"Yes, all of those things." Kathryn replied and now wondered why Leliana was asking. 

"Plus being quite handsome, no?" Leliana said more to herself that to Kathryn. 

"Why do you ask?" Kathryn asked. 

"Oh, no reason." Leliana said lightly and then after a moment, she stood and said. "Good night." 

"Good night." Leliana turned and stepped into her tent. Kathryn wondered at the line of questioning, but only momentarily for there were not too many reasons to ask those types of questions. Kathryn felt uneasy but she saw that Roland was coming to sit by her and pushed it out of her mind. 

19.4 Kathryn 

Roland came over and sat down next to Kathryn. He took her hand. She touched his forehead. "How are you?" She asked. 

"Fine. Will be better in the morning according to Wynne. I am supposed to take this..." He held up a bottle with some odd colored liquid in it. "...and sleep it off." 

"Then you should do as you are told, or she might wag her finger at you." Kathryn said with mock warning. 

"Yes, she doesn't seem like one you would question, does she?" He said with a smile. "I am glad you permitted her to come along. No doubt all of us youngsters need someone around to nag at us." 

"I think all caregivers nag. It is the nature of the job." Kathryn said with a smile. 

"Yes, but I like her. And if she can keep us all fighting and healthy, she will worth her weight in gold." Roland said. 

"True." Kathryn said and then quietly she added. "You know, she reminds me of..." but was unable to continue. 

"Yes, I know, me too." Roland said and put both hands over hers. 

"You should take your potion and get some sleep." Kathryn said. 

"Yes, I should but I have something important to do first." He said. Kathryn looked curious and then smiled as he leaned forward and kissed her. 

"Now, that having been done." She said with a smile. "Take your medicine and get some rest." 

"What was that about nagging?" Roland said. "All right. Goodnight, my dear." 

"Good night, Roland." He finished his potion and crawled into his bedroll. Within moments he was sleeping soundly. 

She watched him sleep and took the opportunity to look at him. He was strong. That was obvious from the way he wielded his sword but in armor all men looked alike. However, with his arms around her she could tell what was armor and what was... him. She had never seen a man without armor or clothing on, of course, but she could imagine. The important thing was she felt safe with him, comfortable. Kissing him made her feel loved and cared for, with his arms around her, she felt content. It was... nice... and more than enough. 

She suddenly realized that Alistair hadn't returned. He had said that he was going to the small pond to soak in the cold water, to help with the inflammation and swelling in his muscles and joints. But he had been gone quite a while. She hoped that he was all right. 

19.5 Alistair 

Alistair made way out to the small pond at the far edge of camp. His armor, weapons and himself were nearly coated in sweat, blood, both his and others, and other such gory matters he didn't want to think about. He needed to get cleaned up and more importantly let his joints and muscles soak in the cold water. But when he tried to remove his armor, his shoulders and back were so stiff and sore that it made the entire process nearly impossible. He should have asked Roland for help but he hadn't realized how injured his shoulder really was. 

Slowly, inch by inch, he managed to slide out of the chest piece, take off the under layers and finally his woolen undershirt. The cool night air felt good on his overheated muscles. He quickly stripped and slipped into the water till it was up to his chin. Normally you would never do this given the temperature of the water and the air. It was simply too cold. There was a real chance of getting a deep chill after only a few minutes submerged like this. But his muscles and joints were so inflamed, he should be fine and this would help the healing process immensely. But he had to be careful not to stay too long. 

After just a few minutes, he stood up. This was the deepest part of the pond, and the water came up to his mid torso. He splashed his face and dunked his head into the cold water. He shook out the excess from his hair and then took the time to smooth it back down. He had always had trouble with his hair. It was thick, incredibly so and until just recently, he couldn't ever get it to do anything more than stand straight up. 

After he joined the Grey Wardens, he had been given some small amount of money for any personal needs or items. The first thing he had done was go to a barber, a real barber. Templar initiates are required to be clean shaven and after leaving the monastery he had let both his hair and beard grow. But the length made his hair even more unruly and he didn't like the full beard, especially with wearing a helmet as much as he did. 

The barber was an older man who looked over his hair and then said. "Ah, no wonder your hair is a mess. It all lays forward. One of the few I've seen like that, and its cut to lay back. I'll get you fixed, but I can't do much with the front. It sticks straight up." Alistair said it was more than good enough. He bought a shaving razor and decided to keep a short goatee. 

Now satisfied his hair would behave, he climbed out of the water, choosing his steps carefully, not wanting to trip or get stuck in the muddy bottom. He dried off and got dressed, gathered his armor and weapons and made his way back to the fire. He was exhausted and needed rest. 

There was a potion next to his bedroll. He drank it, thinking that they really could put forth an effort to make these things taste better. He placed his bedroll close to the fire and soon he was sleeping soundly. 

19.6 Kathryn 

Kathryn decided to check on Alistair, just in case something had happened. She made her way to the pond. He had taken a beating and had been gone quite a while. She was justifiably concerned. The water was cold and if he stayed only a few moments too long, he would be in danger of getting deep chill or worse. He could have passed out or even fallen asleep. The pond might be deeper than they thought. He could have gotten stuck or he could be… naked! Oh... dear... Maker! 

He was turned away from her, doing something with his head or his hair. She could clearly see his back and shoulders in the bright moonlight. Then he turned towards her, but he was looking down intently into the water, picking his way through the bottom with care, and didn't notice her. She could see his entire upper body. Damn! As he got closer to the bank the water level dropped to his waist. She turned and as quickly and as quietly as she could, ran back and straight into her tent. 

She could feel the heat in her checks... her entire face. Her heart was beating... beating too fast... pounding. She was out of breath... no... she couldn't breathe at all. She had thought... really thought it was just the armor and not... Oh Maker! She had known he was strong from the sparring and watching him fight but... Damn! She had, of course, never seen a man like that, well, not like that, of course, but neither had she seen one that looked like... that! 

At least he hadn't seen her. Thank the Maker. But it had been an accident... an innocent accident caused by her real concern for his well-being. Yeah... right... please! Others might buy that and that would have been her story if she had gotten caught but the first rule of being a good liar is not to believe your own lies. 

She had wanted that to happen... hoped that something like it might. She knew he was going to soak in the cold water and the only way he would do that was if he had little to nothing on. If she had truly been concerned for him she would have gone to check on him much earlier, but she had waited till everyone was asleep just so no one would see her. 

If it had been all innocent concern, she would have called out to him long before she was in sight of the pond. Then when she did see him there, she didn't immediately turn away as would be the normal, proper, polite and respectful response but stayed, starring, until he got to the bank. No doubt, if he had stayed in the water, she would probably be there too, still gawking with her mouth open. 

If she was honest, she had wanted to see him since she first saw him at Ostagar, and this might have been her only chance. She should be ashamed... she was ashamed of herself, really... mortified... even, she was. 

She heard something outside and peaked out of tent. Alistair was finishing off Wynne's potion and then he set his bedroll next to the fire and crawled into it. Soon he was asleep. She stepped out of the tent. Breathing in deeply the cool night air. She had to get a hold of herself. She looked to the other side of the fire where Roland was sleeping. After making sure he was still deep in sleep, she walked over to where Alistair was. She just stood there watching him. He was handsome... so... very, in fact. She had forgotten, in a way, with all that had happened since they had met. 

Just looking at him like this... seeing him like that... she felt... she didn't know. She had never felt like this before. She told herself that it was just because it was the first time she had seen a man like that and that was the reason, the only reason, it was affecting her like this, but she doubted it. She needed to get over it, and usually subjecting yourself to more of whatever it is, helps. You become used to it, accustomed and immune to it. But looking at him, it wasn't getting better... but worse. She was getting more and more... something... All she could think about was how it would feel to have his arms around her... to put her head against his shoulder... to have his hands on her... 

Roland looked much the same. She had felt Roland's arms around her and knew that to be so, but somehow... it... this... he... was different. There were good reasons why she and Roland were together. Better ones than just the effect of seeing him or imagining him without clothing had on her or... didn't have on her. She knew that, believed it, but looking at Alistair now, she had to remind herself of it. Thinking of the moonlight off his wet skin... there were sensations she had never felt before and that she didn't understand, but she also knew it was more than that. 

When she had first seen him at Ostagar, she had been numb, reeling from the attack. He had made her feel again, made her want to feel, made her believe that it was okay to feel. He was handsome sure, and the rest... was just... beautiful, really. But looking at him now, she saw more than just that. She saw his courage and character, his sense of humor and strength, his intelligence and his... heart... Here with him, she felt more... alive... than she ever had. 

But what she felt didn't matter for he had never given her any indication that he was at all... interested. There had been that initial conversation at Ostagar but since then... nothing. Granted much had happened between then and now, but if he had forgotten his interest completely... well, it hadn't been very strong to begin with, had it? 

Roland had said something to her at Redcliffe but before that, they had given no indication that they had been anything more than friends. Alistair didn't know their history, couldn't have known and even if he had, you couldn't assume that they both were interested in pursuing a relationship after so much time. They had been, of course, but he couldn't have known that. 

But then again, that conversation they had at Ostagar had been before Lothering, before... Leliana had joined them. Alistair had spoken for her, in favor of allowing her to come with them. She was attractive and just tonight, she had asked Kathryn about him, saying he was handsome and a good man. Kathryn had seen the two of them... talking quietly together, more than once. Perhaps that explained everything. 

She tore herself away and stepped back into her tent. She got undressed and crawled into her bedroll. She curled up into a ball, wrapping her arms tight around her knees. She had a feeling it would be a very long night.

Chapter 20: Redcliffe Part I 

20.1 Kathryn 

They had gotten the boat to take them back across the lake. Kathryn had been right and the night before had been long. Sleep had not come easily to her. Finally exhaustion forced it upon her but it was a restless and fitful one. Today she made every effort to not look at Alistair. As they got settled in to the boat she sat in the back by Wynne, figuring it wouldn't hurt to find out more about their new companion. 

Wynne asked for more specifics about the situation at Redcliffe, after Kathryn had explained. Wynne looked thoughtful and said. "Sad... and especially unfortunate because the victim is one so young." 

"Well, hopefully we can at least save him, although so many others, are beyond saving." Kathryn said. 

"His actions were driven by childish naiveté. There was no malice intended. Connor is as much a victim as anyone here. This should not have happened. The child should have received proper schooling." Wynne said with sadness and a bit of disappointment. 

"At the circle, you mean?" Kathryn said. 

"That is exactly what I mean." Wynne said with conviction. 

Kathryn considered. She hadn't thought much about the Circle before arriving at the tower. If anything she felt sorry for the mages, forced from their homes, to live here in the middle of a lake. But now having seen the damage, destruction and death that a mage could cause, she understood the need for such a place. "You are right. This could have been avoided." Kathryn said. 

"An apostate and a blood mage. Jowan did not even take the Harrowing test before he fled the Circle. He is no more qualified to teach than a rabid squirrel." Wynne said with contempt. 

"Connor was probably never made aware of how dangerous his powers were. That should be the first lesson. They must learn discipline, before they even try experimenting with spells. Who knows what bad habits Jowan may have encouraged, what haphazard form his lessons took?" Kathryn could see the anger build in Wynne and that this was something she felt strongly about. 

Then quite quickly, the anger seemed spent and she looked sad. "I spoke to Jowan, a year ago... he sounded like a nice boy. Earnest, a little awkward, perhaps. It seems he's made several bad decisions over the course of his life. Still, I can't help but feel sorry for him. I wonder if he was stupid or desperate or just curious... he's not the first, he won't be the last." Wynne said sadly. 

Several moments passed and then Wynne said. "If I had to blame anyone, it would be the Lady Isolde." 

"Yes, her actions while perhaps understandable do seems to be the root cause of everything." Kathryn said, tempering what she really thought of Isolde's actions. 

"She was not thinking about what was best for Connor, she was concerned with what was best for her, that she didn't lose him." Wynne said angry. "And look, now she may lose him anyway. The short-sighted, selfish fool." Which was pretty much Kathryn's exact feelings. 

She had to admit she liked Wynne all the more and she had discovered quite a bit about her. She was caring, devoted and protective especially of children. She had strong convictions and willing to speak her mind, good insight on people and sensible. Yes, she liked her quite a bit. No doubt as with many older people who have seen and experienced much, she probably had a tendency to preach and nag but Kathryn had long since realized that was because they cared. With all they would have to go through, they all could use someone to nag them. 

After some moments, Wynne turned to Kathryn her expression now soft, "So how did you become a Grey Warden?" 

Kathryn was caught off guard for such a quick change in topic. "The short version is that I met Duncan and he thought I’d be a good recruit." Which was true. The second rule of being a good liar is to tell as much of the truth as possible. It wasn't that she had any intention of lying and Wynne would find out the truth soon anyway. It was just the question, as innocent as it was, had triggered a defensive reaction. Even though the pain wasn't as sharp as it had been, it was still there. 

"Ah, I see. You must forgive me for prying." Wynne said gently and without any ill will. It put Kathryn more at ease. It wasn't that she didn't want her to know, it was… just hard for her to say, even now. 

"No, you weren't. I… can tell you." Kathryn said. 

"I would like to hear." Wynne said waiting. 

"My… I… Arl Howe attacked my family's estate… they were… everyone was… killed. Duncan helped me escape." Kathryn said with effort. 

"Arl Rendon Howe, why would he do such a thing?" Wynne asked horrified. 

"I… don't know why he would betray us. He was a old friend of my father's. I…" Kathryn looked at Wynne who still looked confused. "My father was Bryce Cousland." 

Wynne's eyes widened. "You… you are a Cousland, I had no idea, my lady." She said with respect. 

"Please, don't." Kathryn wanted respect, but not because of her family's name. "I'm a Grey Warden now and with us all fighting together… I don’t need that kind of respect." 

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you should forget where you came from." Wynne said. 

"No, I won't… can't forget. And Howe will pay for it, but I can't think about that now. There is too much to do." Kathryn said. 

"Take heart, dear friend. You survived, even when you were not expected to." Wynne smiled a nice smile, it was soothing in its way. "Sometimes it gives me comfort to think that everything will end up the way it's supposed to be, that everything will be alright." Wynne said gently. Yes, Kathryn liked Wynne a lot. 

20.2 Wynne 

Wynne liked Kathryn a great deal. She was strong, sensible, determined, intelligent, fierce yet also kind. She had a maturity and wisdom well beyond her years. Finding out she was a Cousland explained much about her. Her poise and the authority with which she carried herself, the way she gave orders and expected them to be obeyed. If the fate of the world was to rest on someone, she was glad it was someone like her. 

She asked of the others and found many answers to her questions. It seemed Alistair was a templar, well an initiate before he was recruited. She had never heard of a templar, much less an initiate, being allowed to leave the order but Kathryn explained the Grey Wardens had the right of conscription given by the king. For Duncan to have risked the wrath of the Chantry to recruit Alistair, spoke well of him. Kathryn also told her that he was the son of King Maric, which greatly surprised her. But upon closer examination, however, the resemblance, at least, to Cailan was quite strong. 

Alistair seemed friendly and personable, if slightly awkward but that only added to his boyish charm. Kathryn spoke well and fondly of him and despite his age Wynne could see that Kathryn valued his opinion highly. It seemed the two of them had been through much together in the short time they had known each other. They fought well together, working as a team. He looked at Kathryn with a great deal of respect and affection and Wynne wondered if he didn't have a crush on her. 

Roland, the red haired one, actually was a knight and while he had been recruited into the Grey Wardens was not one. He had been a knight in service to the Couslands and had escaped the castle after Kathryn had. He and Kathryn had basically been raised together and seemed close, very close. The familiarity they shared was more than she would have expected between a knight and a lady and wondered if there was more going on besides friendship. As Grey Wardens the social restrictions of class would not govern them anymore but given the situation, a romance was probably not be the best thing. He seemed a good steady sort, if quiet, reliable and loyal. 

Kathryn told her about the others but she had not enough experience of them to have formed an opinion and knew enough not to do so too quickly. The sounds of the water and the gentle movement of the boat, made her sleepy. She decided to rest, the last days had been trying and there was no telling what they would face once they arrived at Redcliffe. 

20.3 Kathryn 

Well, at least the castle was still there, and that was a relief. After seeing the tower, well, Kathryn was glad they had come here first. If she had been to the circle tower beforehand, she might not have left the castle with the demon still in possession of Connor. Hopefully the situation had not deteriorated in the time they had been gone. As they entered they were meet by Teagan who informed them that they had heard nothing out of Connor since they had left and that the First Enchanter and a few other mages had just arrived. 

They discussed the situation with Irving. They could only send one mage through the Fade and that mage would have to defeat the demon within its own realm in order to save Connor. Finally Irving asked who was going. 

"Jowan." Kathryn said. 

"What?" nearly everyone said, including Jowan. 

Irving looked concerned, "You would send a blood mage to defeat a demon. What if he is able to control it?" 

"Can he do that?" Kathryn asked curious. 

"I don't know anything about demons." Jowan said, still shocked. 

"So he says." Irving said. 

"He says he wants to help, to fix the mess he helped create, to make amends." She said. "We have mages here and a powerful templar, he tries anything…" she looked directly at Jowan. "…we kill him." 

"You trust too easily." Irving said. 

"No, I do not wish to risk my people when there is an alternative. If he tries anything we kill him. If the demon kills him, then we know we must deal with the demon here." She looked back to Jowan. "No offense, but at this point you're expendable." 

"None taken." Jowan said with resignation. 

"You want redemption, this is your chance." She said to him. She turned back to Irving. "If you are convinced of the folly of this, you can go instead." 

Irving seemed to force back a slight smile. "No, I see your point." 

"I'll do my best." Jowan said. 

"Let's hope that's good enough." Kathryn said. 

"The waiting around part is awesome!" Alistair said to Kathryn and despite the tension in the hall, she had to laugh. 

Jowan had entered the Fade, what seemed like hours ago. The mages were all focused and quiet. All they could do now is wait. 

"Are you sure…" Alistair started. 

"…that sending Jowan into the Fade was a good idea?" Kathryn finished for him. "A good idea, maybe not, but the best one. I didn't want to risk Morrigan or Wynne." 

"Yes, I like Wynne… but we could have sent Morrigan. I'm sure she and a vicious demon would have a lot in common." He said. 

"And that's a good thing?" Kathryn asked. 

"Hmmm… you have a point." He said with a smile. "Yes, I think I trust Jowan more than Morrigan." 

"That's not saying much." Kathryn observed. 

"No, it isn't." Alistair admitted. He then looked up and seemed to be listening. 

"What?" Kathryn said looked from him to the mages. 

"Something's happening." He said and moved closer to the mages. 

To Kathryn's senses everything seemed exactly the same as it had been for hours but Alistair seemed sure. She got Roland's attention, who was quietly talking to Ser Perth and motioned for him to get ready. The rest of the knights positioned themselves around the hall and got set. 

Then all at once all of the mages came out of their trance. Jowan's eyes popped open and he sat up with a start. Kathryn rushed to Jowan. "What happened?" She asked. 

"I… I think it's dead." Jowan said surprised. "I think… I killed it or at least defeated it." 

Irving had walked up beside Kathryn. "Tell us exactly what happened." 

"I wandered around a bit. I found the Arl, he was looking for Connor. Then I found Connor and he turned into the demon. We fought and it disappeared. I went deeper into the Fade and found Connor again and when confronted he became the demon again. We fought but it was stronger and then it disappeared. Finally I found the demon itself. We fought. It was so powerful… I… didn't think I would make it… but it… fell and I could feel the portal open and I was back here." Jowan looked from one of them to the other. 

Kathryn looked to Irving who nodded. "We need to get upstairs, find Connor." She said. 

"I'm coming with you." Isolde said. 

"No!" Kathryn said in a voice that left no room for debate. 

"But he is my son!" She pleaded. 

"Or an abomination. We don't know yet. You've done enough and I don't need you in the way. You stay here!" Kathryn said. 

"Let me come." Teagan said. Kathryn looked to him. "I am a warrior and Connor knows me." Kathryn glanced over to Alistair who looked at her with a face that said, 'I don't like it either but he has a point.' 

"All right. Teagan, Alistair, Wynne, Roland upstairs. We have to find Connor and get to the Arl as fast as we can. If the demon was keeping him alive, maybe if we find him quickly enough…" They gathered their supplies and made their way upstairs. 

Everything was quiet. They searched each room and then entered the family quarters. They saw Connor sitting quietly on the floor playing with his toys. They looked at each other. Kathryn nodded at Teagan who nodded back and then called out. "Connor." 

Connor turned suddenly, apparently startled. "Uncle!" He quickly rose to his feet and ran towards Teagan, jumping into his outstretched arms. "Mother didn't say you were coming. Are you here because Father is ill? I was going to see if Jowan had anything in his books that might help him, but I…" Connor looked confused. "… I guess I forgot." 

"Where is your father now?" Teagan asked. 

"He is in bed, still sleeping. I wanted to go downstairs but I didn't want to leave him… oh… hello." He said as he noticed the rest of them. "Are you here to help Father?" 

"Yes." Kathryn said. "Where is he?" Connor pointed to the end of the hall. They quickly ran to his room. The Arl laid on the bed unconscious but alive. 

Kathryn looked to Wynne who nodded and walked over to the Arl and placed a hand on his head. Alistair stood in the back, staring at the Arl. He looked worried and seemed to be mumbling something to himself. 

Wynne took her hand from the Arl. "I will consult with the others but from what I can tell he is alive under his own power. While the poison was strong enough to kill him, the demon kept him alive. Now the poison is weaker, mostly out of his system but much damage has been done." She looked up at Teagan and said softly. "He will not awaken on his own." 

"But magic…" Teagan said. 

"Magic can only cure what the body can heal." Wynne explained. "It can speed the process, improve it, enhance it, but there are things that cannot be cured. He needs…" 

"A miracle." Teagan said. 

"Yes, or something close." Wynne said grim. 

"Come. Let's go back down stairs and let everyone know it's over." Kathryn said. 

"I'll stay and see if I can determine anything else. Besides he should not be left unattended, not in his condition." Wynne said. 

Kathryn looked to Alistair who said. "I'll… um…" 

"Yes," Kathryn said. "You do that." 

20.4 Alistair and Wynne 

Further investigation of the Arl's condition only confirmed Wynne's original diagnosis. There was nothing she or any healer could do. She did what little she could to make him more comfortable. She turned to Alistair who was still standing in the back of the room. 

Wynne looked at him curiously. He was obviously upset at the Arl's condition. She asked gently. "You know the Arl?" 

Alistair looked up to her. "Yes, I… he… I grew up here. My mother was a serving girl in the castle. She died when I was young… too young to remember… he let me stay. When I was ten, I was sent to the monastery." Alistair's voice trailed off. 

It seemed odd to Wynne that the Arl would take much interest in a child, even a royal bastard, that wasn't his. "But… I haven't talked to him since… I left." Alistair said. 

"I see." Wynne said. She was beginning to suspect that any relationship between Alistair and the Arl was a product of Alistair's wishful thinking, his understandable desire for a father figure. 

"I was so angry at being sent away… I said things…" Alistair said with regret. "He came to visit me a few times but… I… I wouldn't see him." Then he looked up to Wynne. "He isn't my father. I know that but…he was the closest… He was good to me." Alistair said sadly as he looked back to the Arl. 

Wynne's eyes widened. The Arl probably allowed Alistair to stay at the castle because of his parentage, true, but for the Arl to make the effort to go and see him after sending him away, after Alistair's negative response and after he had already refused to see him, did indicate a real relationship between them. One the Arl obviously valued and had made an effort to maintain and repair. 

"I have heard of the Arl. He is a good man, well-respected and well-loved." She said. 

"Yes… I… I should get downstairs." Alistair said and walked out of the room. 

Chapter 21: Redcliffe Part II 

21.1 Teagan 

Teagan insisted that they stay the night in the castle. He had said that they all would benefit from a good meal, a bath and a night sleeping in a warm bed. With that Kathryn could not argue. 

They had discussed trying to find the Sacred Ashes to cure Eamon. They needed his help to fight Loghain. In fact, the greatest argument for how important he would be, was the fact that Loghain had gone through so much trouble to get him out of the way. The entire idea of seeking out a relic seemed farfetched but since no one had a better one, she agreed to at least talk to the scholar in Denerim. The one good thing was that the Arl was in no immediate danger. 

After a substantial dinner, they were all grateful for, Kathryn found Teagan in the Arl's study. 

"Hello, my lady. I hope that you and your companions are finding everything you require." Teagan said. 

" Yes, thank you, Teagan and it's Kathryn. I insist." She said. 

"Kathryn, then. But please, anything you need… for what you have done for Redcliffe, for the village and for my family and for what you are going to attempt for Eamon… I cannot be any more in your debt." He said warmly. Kathryn smiled. Teagan thought to himself that she had a beautiful smile. "Shall I find a good bottle of red wine and we can discuss matters much more pleasant than the events of the last days in front of the fire?" 

"Yes, I would like that very much." Kathryn said. 

"Good." Teagan gathered up the papers he had been looking at and placed them into the top drawer of the desk, where a slight glimmer of something caught her eye. 

Kathryn was on her third glass of wine. Sitting there bathed in firelight, in a dress that brought out the blue in her eyes, Teagan thought she might just be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. So different than the girl he had meet those years ago at the palace. Her poise, her intelligence, quick wit, generous heart, and that smile, not to mention her other attributes. 

They had talked long, about many things from art to books to wine and philosophy. He wanted to keep the conversation away from such subjects that might prove upsetting or cause any distress. He knew that along with food and rest to heal the body, a break from the mental strain of their mission would help heal the mind and spirit. Besides he found he enjoyed her company immensely. But there was something he wished to ask. "If I may," Kathryn looked to him curious. "What can you tell me of Alistair?" 

"What do you wish to know? It would seem you would know more than I?" Kathryn said. 

"About him as a child, his history and past, perhaps, but not of who he is now, the type of man he is. That is what I wish to know. Given that the two of you have been through much in the relative short time you have known each other, you no doubt are a prime person to judge his personality and character." Teagan said. 

Kathryn considered for several moments and then said. "He is a good man with a good heart in him. He has an irrepressible spirit and a hidden strength. He is a man of good judgment, intelligent with strong but deep emotions, kind… also charming, witty with a sarcastic sense of humor. He is an accomplished warrior, disciplined and courageous but not reckless in any way, indomitable. The main fault I find with him is that he has no comprehension of his own worth and value." She said quietly with real warmth. 

Teagan listen to the tone of her voice and the light in her eyes and realized that she had feelings for Alistair, beyond those of friends or comrades. He wondered if she was even aware of them herself. He could not help but be slightly disappointed. 

"May I ask you something?" She said. 

"Of course." He said. 

"I know it is bad manners to speak of the dead or at least at times honestly of them but will you tell me of your opinion of Cailan?" She asked. 

"Well, I had known him his entire life, of course. He was a happy child with a love of books and the old tales much like my sister Rowan. He had such ideals, saw goodness and beauty in all, but while some, if not many, may have considered him naïve, he was no fool. He seemed content to let Anora handle nearly all aspects of actually ruling the country. As much as it seemed a perfect match, it was not. They had grown up together, she being the elder. They were fond of each other, no doubt, but Cailan saw her as more a bossy older sister and she saw him as a child. It is hard for such a strong woman to love a man she does not respect. No doubt you understand." Teagan took another drink of his wine and continued thoughtful. 

"Perhaps he was simply so used to her getting her way, and she so used to getting her way, it never occurred to either one to do anything different. But it always seemed to me that he was simply going through the motions, playing the part of 'king' like an actor on a stage, saying the lines as he should but without any real understanding of what they meant. Perhaps because that was all he was allowed to do. A dog that has never killed, has never hunted, forever remains a puppy." Teagan said. 

"He seemed to be waiting for his turn to be the hero. I think he saw the Blight in that way, as his battle to be won. As an almost an excuse for him to take command." Teagan said. "But when the time came for him to truly be the king as opposed to acting as one, he didn't know how. Perhaps Maric should have tried harder to teach him. Although I'm not sure Maric knew himself really. Maric had not been taught as such but learned through the trial of fire and war. Moria could not teach him for what she had was not knowledge but natural talent and instincts. Cailan was much like Maric and perhaps he would have learned to be a good king in time but now we shall never know." Teagan finished, drinking the last of his wine. 

Kathryn put down her glass, and stood. "I should get some sleep. We leave early in the morning." Teagan stood. Kathryn continued. "Thank you for the conversation." 

"My pleasure, Kathryn, and I hope you will not begrudge me one of the trapping of nobility." He took her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it. "If I do not presume too much to say, you are a most impressive woman. Your father would be very proud." 

"Thank you." She said sadly and then smiled. "Good night, Teagan." 

21.2 Teagan 

Before retiring to his room, Teagan made a stop to check on Eamon. Isolde said that there had been no change but that he seemed stronger than before and was stable. He said good night to Connor and then made his way down the hall. Alistair was standing outside his room. 

"Bann Teagan." Alistair said. 

"Please, it's just Teagan to family." Teagan said making a point. 

"But… I'm not really…." Alistair started. 

"…listening to me. It's Teagan, Alistair. Please." Teagan said insistent. 

"All right." Alistair said with a smile. 

"Come in. Will you take a brandy?" Teagan asked. 

"Never had one." Alistair said. 

"Good time to remedy that." He walked into the room. The fire was roaring. It was pleasant. Well, as pleasant as a night in the south of Ferelden gets. "I am sorry that I did not have the time to talk to you before but with everything… " 

Teagan poured two glasses of brandy and handed one to Alistair. "Small sips are best." Alistair looked at the glass, took a sniff and then a small sip. "So now that things have at least stabilized, do tell me how have you been?" Teagan asked. 

"It seems you already know, the monastery and then the Grey Wardens." Alistair said and took another sip. 

"I only know what the brothers told Eamon and what Eamon told me, but not the truth as you know it. So please," Teagan indicated a chair. "…tell me everything." 

Alistair's tongue and general reluctance to talk about himself were severely loosened by the second glass of brandy. He tried to gloss over how much he actually hated the monastery, how lonely and miserable he had actually been. But Teagan, being an astute man, picked up on it all the same. 

Then Alistair told Teagan about the tournament and the confrontation with the Grand Cleric, and about how he had been conscripted by Duncan. 

"Ah, yes." Teagan said. "Apparently, the Chantry does not let go of its templars easily, once they begin the training." Teagan said. 

"How did you know that?" Alistair asked. 

Teagan again noted how quickly Alistair picked up on such subtle hints and any slight inconsistencies. He had been a bright child and had developed into a rather clever man. Kathryn's assessment seemed very true to the mark. It was pleasing to him that he could so easily see the boy Alistair had been in the man before him. 

"Cailan found that out." Teagan said, hoping that would be enough to spark Alistair's interest. 

"Cailan? How? Why?" Alistair asked more confused. 

"Cailan didn't know about you until just before Maric disappeared. Before he left, he told Cailan, who was furious with him." In fact, it had been one of the only times he could ever recall seeing any temper in Cailan. 

"No doubt for cheating on his mother." Alistair said quietly. 

"No." Teagan said. "He was furious that he had a brother and that he hadn't been told." Alistair looked at Teagan curiously. Teagan continued. "After he was named king, he wanted to bring you to court. But you were already being trained as a templar, and he didn't want to cause problems with the Grand Cleric. Instead, he had arranged with her that once you took your vows you would be assigned to his personal bodyguard. Under the guise of protecting him from malificarum and blood magic. But then you were recruited into the Grey Wardens." 

Alistair looked away to the floor. Suddenly Cailan's death meant something to him. Before he had just been the king and not a very good one in his opinion. No, that's not true, that's not true at all. Cailan had been so much more to Alistair than that. Cailan had been the reason he had been kept a secret, why Maric had never and would never have acknowledged him as his son, why Maric had never met him, and as far as he knew never even seen him, why he had slept in a hayloft and with the hounds, why he was cast aside, pushed off on relatives and finally sent to the Chantry an orphan, inconvenient and unwanted… all of it had been because of Cailan. 

But, in truth, that had no more been Cailan's fault as it had been his. Cailan didn't know, hadn't known. Of course, he hadn't known about him. Why in the Maker's name would they tell Cailan about him? And when Cailan found out about him, he… wanted to bring him to court... he wanted him... Cailan had wanted him… to be... with him... 

Alistair remembered the few exchanges he had with him at Ostagar. The resentment he had barely been able to contain and that had seeped into every word he had spoken to him. 

"Not what you were expecting?" Teagan asked gently. 

"No." Alistair said softly. 

Teagan put his glass down and leaned forward. "Alistair, I know you felt and probably still feel that you were unwanted, unloved, but that wasn't and isn't true. I would gladly have taken you if I could but was not given the lands of Rainisfere for another two years and by then it was too late. And Eamon…" Alistair looked up to Teagan. "Eamon was heartbroken that you took going to the monastery so hard. He was honestly trying to do the best for everyone, and that included you. He didn't mean to hurt you." 

Alistair swallowed hard and said. "Even so, I figure he wouldn't be so quick to forgive or forget what I said to him." 

"Then you figure wrongly." Teagan said. "He never held that against you. He forgave you the moment you said it." Teagan leaned back. Several moments passed. 

"It's late. I… am keeping you up and no doubt you have much to do tomorrow." Alistair said distracted. "I… need to get some sleep." He stood up. 

"Yes, you should get some rest. Good night, Alistair." Alistair nodded and walked out of the room. 

21.3 Kathryn 

The main floor of the castle was still. Kathryn kept to the shadows, more out of habit than anything. For she wasn't doing anything wrong, no, she simply couldn't sleep and was heading to the study to get a book to read. That's all… or at least that was the story. She had heard said, mainly by warriors, that all rogues have the soul of thieves. She was beginning to believe it. 

She tested the door to the Arl's study, it wasn't locked. She slipped in and went to the desk and gently opened the top drawer. Moving the papers she uncovered a small amulet in the corner. It was ceramic but painted a slivery color. A cheap trinket, dozens are sold for coppers everyday all over Thedas. 

She held it to the light and could see that it was riddled with cracks, as though someone, a child perhaps, had thrown it against a wall and it had shattered into hundreds if not thousands of pieces. And then someone else with a great amount of patience and dedication had collected all those tiny pieces and glued them back together. It was a remarkable effort that must have taken hours upon hours over weeks if not months. There was little doubt this was the amulet that Alistair had told her about. The one he had thrown at the wall in anger after being told he was to be sent to the monastery. And there seemed to be even less doubt that the Arl had gathered those tiny pieces and repaired it. 

The only thing in doubt was why? The amulet itself was nearly worthless, even if new and in perfect condition. You could buy a score for the cost of the glue it took to repair it. But the amulet itself wasn't what the Arl was trying to repair. No, he was trying to repair his shattered relationship with Alistair. He had taken being sent to the monastery hard, much harder than the Arl had anticipated, it seemed. The Arl must have thought that by repairing the amulet, something of personal value and meaning to him, and returning it, by visiting him and continuing to do so even after he refused to see him, he could prove to him that he did care and still cared. 

Looking at the amulet, still kept in the top drawer of his desk, Kathryn realized that the Arl must have loved Alistair a great deal, and Alistair deserved to know that. She closed the drawer and slipped out of the study. 

21.4 Alistair and Kathryn 

Kathryn started back up the stairs when she realized that she was hungry. They had enjoyed an excellent dinner and she had taken full advantage of it but still she was hungry. She didn't think that anyone would mind if she grabbed an extra bite or two… or maybe three. 

She made her way towards the kitchen. As she got closer, she thought he heard something but who could possibly be up at this hour eating… well, besides her. Given that the castle had recently been inhabited by corpses, she was a bit concerned and painfully aware that she was without any weapons. She cautiously approached the door and gently opened it. 

Alistair was standing by the fire. He turned to her quickly with the perfect look of innocence that one only has when getting caught doing something they shouldn't be. 

Upon realizing it was her, he relaxed and then said. "Let me guess… despite the huge dinner, you're hungry." 

"Starving. But besides the fact that I'm in the kitchen, how did you know?" She asked. 

"One of the things that changes after the Joining, increased appetite. Everyone goes through it. For a while after my Joining, I would scarf down every meal like it was my last and then raid the castle's larder in the middle of the night." Alistair said with a laugh. 

"Like now." Kathryn asked with a joking accusatory edge. 

"Like now… well not really. You get over it or used to it after a while but the Arl usually has a supply of cheeses, the good stuff too, and I figure won't get too many of those anytime soon." Alistair said. 

"Here." He set a few slices in front of her. "This is really good with apples. I don't know the names, I think it starts with a 'g' or maybe a 'd'… it's been a while." He stepped over to the table and picked up a couple apples, some bread, figs and a couple more kinds of cheese. "This one is strong, so just a little on bread. But this one you can eat just by itself." 

Kathryn watched him as he sliced the apples and bread, talking about growing up at the castle. She was listening intently, laughing at the stories of him as a child. But part of her was amazed too. For it had been barely over a day she had been looking at him nearly naked in the moonlight and having it affect her more than she ever would have thought, making her heart race, cheeks flush, breathing stop, and in other ways she didn't understand. But now sitting here in this pleasant calmness, without any hint of anything physical, she was just as affected, just as drawn to him, just as excited… to just be sitting here… over cheese. 

As they finished their snack, he thanked her for saving the Arl’s family and asked if they could look up his half-sister when they went to Denerim. 

Kathryn thought of Fergus and how happy she would be to find out she had a brother like Alistair. Kathryn could tell he was trying to play if off, but he really wanted to try to find her. 

"Well, we should probably get some sleep…" Alistair said although he seemed reluctant to leave. 

"We should, but first… I have something for you…" She took the amulet out and placed it into his hand. 

"This... this is my mother's amulet. It has to be, but why isn't it broken? Where did you find it?" He asked excited. 

"In the study, in the desk." She said, letting him work through the implications of what that meant himself. 

"Oh. The Arl's study. That means he must have found it after I threw it at the wall and repaired it. But why?" He said, working it through and becoming more confused. 

"Maybe he knew what it meant to you and wanted to give it back to you." Kathryn said gently. 

"Maybe he did." He said with so much regret. It was almost painful to listen to. "Thank you. I mean it. I... thought I lost this to my own stupidity. I'll need to talk to him about this. If he recovers from his... when he recovers, that is. I wish I'd had this a long time ago. I wish I’d known." He looked at it fingering over the cracks. Then he turned and looked at her. 

"Wait. You remember me mentioning it? Most people don’t really listen when I go on about things." He said. 

"Oh, sorry? Did you say something?" She said with a smile. 

"Ho, ho, ho. Very funny." He said with a laugh. 

"Of course, I remembered." She said sincere. He looked to her and smiled. Their eyes held for a long moment. Kathryn finally said. "Come on, we need to get some sleep." 

21.5 Alistair 

Alistair waited till Kathryn was in her room and then he slipped back out and made his way to the family quarters. Gently he opened the door to the master bedroom. Isolde was sleeping on one of the couches, while the Arl was laying just as he had last seen him. 

As quietly as he could he went to the side of the bed. He knelt down and after making sure Isolde was still sleeping he leaned in close to the Arl and said in little more than a whisper. 

"It's Alistair. I… I just want you to know… your family is safe and I… we… are going to do everything we can to cure you… but it may take time, so please… just… hold on. All right. And I… I just want you to know… about before… I'm so… sor…" 

Alistair swallowed hard and then grasped the Arl's hand. It weakly closed around Alistair's and gently squeezed for just the briefest moment and then let go. Alistair set his jaw and blinked his eyes several times and then got up and quietly walked out of the room 

Chapter 22: Fifth Camp 

22.1 Zevran 

Zevran took up a spot some distance from the fire but close enough to keep from freezing to death in this cold, wet country. The one benefit of the cold was that it smelled less like wet dog, or perhaps his nose was just too cold to smell. He had been waiting and watching and it seemed no one was using this particular spot. People are creatures of habit. They develop patterns of behavior rather quickly, especially in times of stress. They like things to be familiar, even the little things like their position next to the fire, and the last thing he wanted was to upset anyone. 

He was acutely aware that nearly everyone at the camp had one eye on him except the gorgeous dark-haired Warden who was in charge who had neither of hers on him, sad to say, and the handsome blond-haired Warden who had both of his on him, and being obvious about it, not that he minded at all. Zevran wasn't sure if he just wanted him to know in no uncertain terms he was watching his every move or because subtly was not his strong suit, probably both. 

Zevran took the time to consider his situation, besides it kept his mind off the cold. He could not have imagined this particular outcome, would not have thought it at all possible. 

He had expected… well… to die, actually. After… his last job, he had decided to leave the Crows. However, there was really only one way to truly leave them… through the release of death and that was fine with him. 

He did not wish to take his own life, for to do so would have made it seem the Crows had won, that he had given in, had failed somehow, that the master who disliked him had been right about him. And even if all that was true, he did not want to give any of them the satisfaction of knowing it. 

So when this job presented itself, it seemed as though the Maker had heard his plea and sent him the perfect way to escape. The Grey Wardens are highly respected in Antiva even by the Crows. Many did not want the job out of respect but others simply believed taking such a job would be suicide. It was a perfect solution to his problem. 

But he had noticed that things never seem to work out the way you plan, or at least not the way he planned, but planning had never been his strong suit. 

He had set up the ambush to fail. Even hand-picked the group from the new assassins, those young and hungry to make a name, stupid enough to not see the plan for what it was. It was his last stab at the Crows, but it also made it look like he was trying. 

He had been given little enough information about them, but found them rather quickly. He set up the ambush so that the Grey Wardens would be forced to kill all of them, so that there would be no escape for any of them. Amazing how many of the recruits thought it was a good idea, a forced fight. They had the advantage of numbers, had surprise, positioning, preparation and supplies. However, once the attack began, it became a fair fight and one that any assassin would lose. 

But as the gorgeous dark-haired warden, who he recognized from seeing a horrible sketch of her, had struck him down, at least he had consoled himself that his last view of the world had been one of beauty and his last feeling was one of relief and accomplishment for his plan had worked. But he did not awaken at the side of the Maker, as he had expected or at least had hoped he would but on the ground surrounded by the bodies of the dead and looked down upon by his potential executioners. 

He had awoken to life and with it opportunity, another way out perhaps, unimagined and unexpected. Perhaps he had been too willing to settle for death. 

He was nothing if not an opportunist. To be good at what he did, you had to be. He did not expect for her to accept his offer, but it wasn't as though he had that many options. He did know them to be desperate, how desperate he didn't really understand until now but all the better for him. 

She had questions. He had answered them honestly, and then he set forth his proposal. She listened. He turned on the charm, he was good at that, and thinking on his feet or in this case laying prone on the ground… actually he was good at that in general. He didn't really expect her to accept it. But she had accepted. She had taken him at his word… no, that's not true at all. She had believed him, but that was only because she could tell he was speaking the truth. 

One of the true tricks of the Crows, that made them so good, one so crucial and dear to what they did that it was never mentioned, is how they train their assassins to judge and evaluate people. Knowing your prey is the best way to catch them, the best way to kill them and the best way to get away with it. Much time is spent in learning to observe and read people, body language, vocal inflections. This is the true power of the Crows the thing that makes them so deadly and feared, the ability to seduce their prey. 

He could tell immediately that she was also one to seize an opportunity and equally good about reading and evaluating people, calm under pressure, not given to anger or quick judgments, patient and cunning. She would make a good assassin. He had not fooled her in the least, and he had not tried to. If he had, he had little doubt that he would now be dead. The only reason she had believed him was because he was in fact telling the truth. But he must not think for a moment that she trusted him. If she thought he was a threat, she would be the first to kill him, quickly and without mercy, but that's only if the blond didn't get to him first. 

He had to get them to…well, not trust, that he doubted would happen anytime soon if at all, but accept him, get used to him. Not that he had any ideas of betraying them, at least not at the moment. Being an opportunist means you are open to whatever opportunities come your way. But for the moment he was satisfied with his current position. He was in much less danger from them than the Crows and was at least willing to fight for their cause. Saving the world is not a bad way to spend one's time, at least, until something better presented itself. 

He had taken up his position out of the way, out of earshot, trying not to intrude, but close enough to be watched. Since he had no plans to do anything harmful to any of them, he wanted them to watch him. He had waited till everyone had eaten and had seconds before asking if he could have what was left of whatever it was they were eating. Not that it was anything to speak of but it was edible. It wasn't like he had had a good meal since leaving Antiva anyway. 

As he finished, what he guessed was some form of stew, Ferelden cooking was all the same just slightly different shades of gray, he noticed that it appeared the dark-haired Warden was with the red-headed knight. That actually surprised him and he was rarely surprised by people. He had seen the way the blond had looked at her, and was, in fact, looking at her at this very moment. Hmmm… he had thought nothing could distract him from staring at him, but he had been quite mistaken. Not that he could blame him. He obviously has feelings for her, actually he couldn't blame him there either. 

He wondered if the rest knew that. It seemed obvious enough to him, but he was an impartial observer. Things could get a lot more interesting around here if the blond wanted to start something, for he had also observed how she had looked at him, or… if someone wanted to stir things up a bit… he was just saying… 

22.2 Kathryn 

Leliana had come up to her and told her that she had lied earlier, not that her lying had surprised Kathryn any. She had figured that at the very least she was not telling her the whole story and that there was most definitely a story there worth telling. 

Leliana had been betrayed by her bard master who was also her lover. Betrayed to the Orlesian guard, accused of treason, tortured, had escaped to Ferelden and joined the Chantry. No doubt such a betrayal would leave scars that were still painful long after the body had healed. 

She was glad that Leliana had felt that she could tell her the story, trust her with it, with who she had been and with knowing what had happened to her. It could not have been easy for her. She liked Leliana. She was exactly the gossipy, girly type of friend to talk with about all of the things women talk about, hair and clothes and men. The type of friend she had never had in her life. 

Mother had always had a couple of ladies she wrote to and who she went to visit and who would come and stay at the castle on occasion. While she loved Father, she would say that at times a woman needs female company, as a man needs male company. It is simply the way of things. However, now most women her age were married and talked only of problems running a household and raising children. She was actually looking forward to spending some time in Denerim and some female time away from the Blight. 

Speaking of females, after talking to Leliana, she had gone to talk to Morrigan. She kept herself away from the rest of the group, which was a relief. She seemed determined to be difficult with everyone, but Kathryn had made an effort to get to know her, and she had found out much. 

Morrigan knew little enough of people. She barely knew how to interact with them, understood very little of them and valued them even less. Although, many who do not have something, discount its importance. Flemeth had taught her to survive in a world that would hunt and cage her. She gave Morrigan the insight and skill to survive the world but not to enjoy it, nor those inhabiting it. 

Of course, if you do not survive, little else matters and such luxuries can be taught or learned for one's own when there is time. But her lack of experience of others made her unable to see things from any other perspective than her own. She was vain about her looks and was not as smart as she thought she was. But while she may be prickly, Kathryn did not think she was evil, a hard person but she wasn't even sure that she meant to be as mean as she was. Without experience of others she had no idea that what she may think of as teasing went too far, that what she would not take personally, others did. 

Morrigan had told Kathryn about her mother's grimoire and that she expected that it may be at the Mage's tower. Although, Kathryn was a bit skeptical, she did tell her that if they went back to the tower, she would at least look for it. 

22.3 Leliana 

She had finally told Kathryn the truth about why she had come to Ferelden… about Marjolaine and her betrayal to the Orlesian guard. Admitting to being a bard, had been a simple matter since Kathryn had asked and had already suspected as much. To admit to such an intimate and complete betrayal was humiliating. As though somehow such is your fault, or perhaps it is just that you feel foolish to trust when you should not have, to admit to such a failure in understanding, to misjudging someone so badly. 

But she didn't want there to be these secrets or lies between them. Kathryn was a good person and she liked her. She enjoyed being around her and while she wouldn't have minded more, she was becoming a good friend, someone she could trust. And while telling her had been difficult, it had felt good to get it off her chest. 

She could not change her past. It was what it was and it was a part of her. She didn't want to hide anymore, hide who she was or had been. Although she was not even sure she knew anymore, if she had ever. She had spent so long, her entire life in fact, being whatever she needed to be, what others wanted her to be, expected her to be, that she was unsure of what she really was. 

Cecilie had wanted her to be a perfect child, charming and innocent, playful and fun, entertaining and caring and she had been happy to be those things for her. She had been exceptionally kind, not only allowing her to stay once her mother had died but giving her lessons in music and dance. For while she could use those skills to entertain her, those skills would also give her a way to survive when the day came that Cecilie returned to the Maker. 

Cecilie had no idea that those skills would allow her an entirely different occupation than that of singer and storyteller but of bard and assassin. She would have remained just a simple minstrel if she had not meet Marjolaine. 

Marjolaine who had introduced her to a totally different world than the one she knew, different even than the one she suspected existed. She had taught her everything, from the mysteries of love and desire, to the arts of a thief, to the techniques of love, to the ways of a spy, from how to seduce any man, nearly any one, to how to kill them. For her, Leliana had been whatever Marjolaine had wanted her to be, whatever she had told her to be. 

Then the Chantry, from a Master to the Maker and Andraste and the priests, brothers and sisters. At all times someone wanting her to be something and her trying to be that. Perhaps in all that she had lost track of who she really was. Maybe she was afraid to admit that, she had become something she didn't want, become a person she didn't want to be, or that she had became exactly who she had wanted to be and only now she saw what a horrible person that was. Only now was she ashamed of herself and she didn't know what to do about it. 

Her eyes looked up from the fire and these thoughts. Alistair was across from her, totally occupied with staring at Zevran and making sure he knew it. Earlier he had mentioned to her that he had heard stories of the Orlesian bards, the racier more titillating ones, it seemed. Not that they weren't true, mind you. He seemed more excited by the idea of her being one, enchanted even. That wasn't surprising given his sheltered life up to this point. Perhaps her initial assessment had been correct, that he would respond to an experienced woman to show him the world, as it were. 

She had tried to downplay that aspect of her life, even discount the rumors but his interest was much better than him being appalled by her past and not wanting to have anything to do with her. It was a part of who she was and would forever be. Perhaps the next time he brought it up she would indulge him and see what happened. 

Speaking of Zevran, she was glad Kathryn had allowed him to live. Perhaps her own situation caused her to feel that way, but she desperately wanted to believe all could be redeemed, all could atone. For if that was true for him, then it must also be true for her. She hoped that he took advantage of this chance. Kathryn was one to give mercy, but discriminately. She wasn't a fool nor the least bit naïve. He had a chance but only the one. 

22.4 Alistair 

So, the sweet chantry sister is a bard, an assassin. He could tell by how she had avoided the subject when he had broached it earlier. But it did make her more… interesting. There is the allure of danger, and one can be too good. 

He liked her… a lot really. And while her past made her the more fascinating, the fact that she had walked away from it also proved that at heart she was a good person. He didn't feel… not exactly… not really… but he did feel something for her. And he was starting to get the feeling she might… like him. He wasn't sure, he had so little experience, well none to be honest, in such things. 

He should be excited by the possibility. It was more than he had ever expected… and yet. There was her… of course. But that wasn't happening, so it didn't matter what he felt about her, did it? At least, now he knew he could have those kinds of feelings for someone but why should he wait forever on something that might never happen… at least not happen again. 

But was Leliana what he wanted? What did he want? He had never thought about it in those terms before. Of course, never been a reason to before. 

He remembered at the monastery, while the other boys had hoarded copies of "The Lusty Dwarven Maid" he had read and reread the story of Lady Shayna the warrior who fought alongside Calenhad. He had never understood why he had not married her instead of Mairyn. Now he could understand the politics of it all, but he had always believed that Shayna was the one Calenhad had truly loved. 

And that he could understand for that was what he wanted, a woman like that, to fight alongside, to stand with, someone he could help and who would want to help him, not a princess to rescue from the dragon but one who would go with him to slay it, a partner… in all things… 

Perhaps Leliana could be that for him. He should at least be open to the possibility. He should not look at what could not be too much and miss what could be, even if it wasn't… 

He started getting ready for bed. He was tired and the battle today had been tough, but something about it all didn't sit right with him. Like why had they ambushed them like that. If the point was to kill him and Kathryn, why hadn't they waited till they were close enough and then taken them out with poisoned arrows or bolts or something. 

He had been glaring at Zevran for most of the evening, letting him know he was watching, as they all were. He didn't trust him, didn't want him here and didn't like that Kathryn had let him live. Yes, they were desperate but he wasn't convinced they were this desperate. 

He had expressed his concern and Kathryn had listened and he knew that she took what he said seriously. One of the few people who ever had, but in this case she had decided against him. It wasn't like he expected they would agree on everything and in the case they disagreed someone had to make a decision. She had taken charge after Ostagar when he simply wasn't able to and he had said he would follow her no matter what and he would. 

At first that had been out of desperation but now it was out of loyalty and respect, confidence in her ability and judgment. She gave him hope and that meant more than anything. He was so grateful that she was… her and here and had… survived with him. He trusted her and if she thought Zevran could be useful, he was willing to go along with that. 

At least for a while, but if he thought he was going to try something… under no circumstances would he let him hurt her. That's what frightened him, something happening to her. He wasn't concerned about himself. Not that he wanted to die, but he didn't fear death. The templar training takes that out of you, or maybe you figure death would be better, but no… she… had to survive. She… just had to. And he would do whatever he thought best to that end, and if that meant killing Zevran or putting himself in harm's way… or allowing others to… then that is what he would do. If they stood any chance against the Blight, she had to survive. 

22.5 Kathryn 

Roland walked up and sat down next to Kathryn. She could tell he had something on his mind and waited. After a few moments, he said. "I know we are on the way to Denerim, and there is much to do there. But I was hoping that if at all possible, we… well, we are passing close to Hunter Fell, my family's estate. I was hoping that we could go there and check on Father. I have not heard from him since before news of the Blight reached Highever and I know that rumors of what happened at the castle have reached him by now. I want to see if he is alright and let him know I survived." 

"Yes, of course we can." Kathryn said without reservation. It was important they get to Denerim soon and do all to succeed in their mission but the Blight would not be defeated tomorrow and a day's delay would not matter. Their mission if they were successful was one that would take months if not years. She had to balance the importance of their quest and the fact that each day the Blight spread with the values of proper timing and waiting and the needs of the group. Pushing too hard and not allowing for rest and the healing of mind and body would not benefit anyone nor help them end the Blight. 

"Thank you." Roland said clearly happy and relieved. "I haven't seen it in years but I know the way still. I guess you never really forget the way home. I haven't seen my father in some time, since I was knighted in fact." 

"Yes, I remember that…" she said trying to get his mind off of the unknown situation with his father. "You were the youngest knight ever to serve Highever. There was lots of ceremony and quite a feast. We were all very proud. Made a man out of you, it seems." She said with a bit of teasing . 

"No," he said and then hesitated. He seemed to be considering and then continued. "…that happened sometime later." 

Kathryn seemed confused for a moment and then it came to her. "Oh… I see." She said slightly embarrassed. 

"At least how that phrase is traditionally used." Roland said nearly as an apology. He had been waiting for an opportunity to broach which he knew would be an awkward conversation but a necessary one, and this was as good a one as any. 

"Not anyone at the castle, was it?" Kathryn asked. 

"No, the first time was on a trip to Denerim, at the… brothel." Roland said gently. "After I was knighted, the captain paid for it but I suspect the Teyrn footed the bill." After a short pause, he continued. "There are things that must be taught and the best way is to learn from someone who knows." 

"A professional, it would seem." Kathryn said, seemingly lost in though. Then she looked to him and said, "The first time?" 

"Yes." Roland said embarrassed. Why did she have to be so cunning? "There were others, while traveling with the Teyrn… castle servants, tavern wenches…" 

"Did you love them?" She asked a little short. 

"No. Some I liked and even cared for but… there has only been one person I have ever loved." He said sincere. "But by then I was well aware that… we... that it was impossible." 

"Did it make a man of you, as they say.?" Kathryn asked curious. 

Roland seemed to consider. "Yes, but not in way I expected or would have ever thought. I… It is difficult to explain." 

"To one who has not had that experience." Kathryn said making sure he got all the implications of that statement. 

"Or to a woman." He said carefully and then quickly followed up with, "I would think the experience… would be different for you than I." 

"Yes, you would think so." Kathryn said. Several moments passed. 

"I hope that you do not hold this against me. It is not something I can change, and even if I could… I… I don't regret it, even if I would have known that we… I still… would want to know how… know what to do." He explained. 

"No, I know it is accepted and even preferred for one partner to know what they are doing in any such endeavor. This probably more than others, and to learn from a professional is best in nearly all things." She said. 

"Yes, and well…" Roland took a deep breath. "I know that it is expected for two people to wait for… sanction, but… that is not always possible or preferred. The situation we find ourselves in now… we may not be able to wait… and there is little reason to, I think. I know for a noble, a noble lady… much depends on… certain things… but…" 

"Yes, I know… I'm not a noble anymore and those reasons don't apply now and the situation is a different and a difficult one." She said quickly. 

"My dear…" Roland said softly. 

"We should get some sleep." Kathryn said and stood up. 

"Yes, we should." Roland replied. 

22.6 Kathryn 

Kathryn stepped into her tent. She had figured that Roland had been with others, expected it really. Most men had, especially ones of his station and age, and she couldn't and didn't hold that against him. In fact, it made sense to her that one person should know what they were doing, especially in such an intimate matter. 

That was not what concerned her, it was him talking of waiting… or more like not waiting. He wants to lie with her. She knew that but what she didn't know was what she wanted. She tried to imagine but it was difficult for her and when she did she felt… she… didn't know. 

Mother had told her about that, of course, what happens, the pleasures and such when she became a woman. She had also told her how important it was to maintain her reputation, to wait, to make a good match, all of the things that didn't matter now. 

All that mattered now was only what should matter… how she felt… how he felt… how they felt about each other and about being together… about lying together. But she didn't know if she was ready. Maybe you never are truly ready for such a change. Maybe she would only know when the time came. And she had the feeling that it would soon. 

Chapter 23: Denerim Part I 

23.1 Kathryn 

They arrived in Denerim about mid morning. Everyone had come except Sten who happily, well, as happily as Sten does anything, volunteered to stay at camp. But while he had said that he did not require anything, she planned on getting him some cookies from the Orlesian bakery in town. While Fereldens, due to their recent and painful history, had a general distaste for most things Orlesian, there were exceptions for wine and baked goods. This particular baker had a good selection and the best sweet rolls in the city. 

It had been a couple years since she had been to Denerim and generally her time had been spent in the noble district of the city. The market district was new to her. 

The Couslands did not have a family estate in Denerim like many, if not most, of the noble houses, due to the fact that they did not winter in Denerim as many of the other noble families did. For one, Highever had nicer weather than Denerim and secondly, the estates from the Bannorn were mostly farming communities that go into hibernation during the, at times, harsh Ferelden winters but on the coasts commerce and industry were active all year. 

When they did stay at Denerim it was with family friends or as guests of the king in the palace. Father would come to the Landsmeet each year, of course, and at times one or more of the family would accompany him. She had missed the trip the last few years due to a variety of reasons. 

She had thought to call on a few family friends to see if they could assist in some way. However, upon arriving in the city, she had learned that Howe had been named as the new Arl of Denerim and she didn't want to risk that they were being watched either for her own safety or theirs. 

They had more than enough to keep them occupied during their stay in the city. She had given everyone coin for any personal needs, plus they needed potions, poisons and grenades, and ingredients for all of those. Not to mention food and other supplies, the repair of armors and weapons and any upgrades to either that they needed and could afford. 

They also needed to make some coin to offset their expenses. During the attack on the castle, she had raided the castle's treasury and took all she could. Although it was not what was normally there, since much had been spent getting the army ready to march. But they would need more, and every bit helped. 

While looking for Brother Genitivi, she made a stop by the Chanter's Board. Not only was there an item about bandits in the city but a few more jobs, including the location of some of Loghain's troops. She placed the notice in her journal and then met with the sergeant who was in charge of the market district. He recognized her from the sketch and proved to be a friend to the wardens. He also mentioned he needed help dealing with some mercenaries at The Pearl, the city's high class brothel. 

They found Brother Genitivi's address. Kathryn was doubtful about this entire endeavor but she didn't have a better idea, and they needed Arl Eamon if at all possible. His house was off the main market square. After entering they talked to his assistant Weylon. He seemed very reluctant to tell them where the brother was but she insisted. He told them that the brother was in the area of Lake Calenhad by the circle tower, investigating something in that area. 

As they left the house, Morrigan commented. "We seem to be going quite out of our way to revive this Arl Eamon." 

"We need his help. What choice do we have?" Alistair responded. 

"Morrigan, you know we can't fight a blight and a civil war given our small numbers. And the fact that Loghain went through so much trouble to get him out of the way should prove his importance." Kathryn said, hoping she would get the hint. 

"Surely there must be another option than searching out a holy relic, the existence of which is not even certain. This is a rather thin hope to hang our success upon." Morrigan replied. 

"Morrigan, do you actually have something to contribute or are you just stating the obvious to be… tedious?" Kathryn said sharply. 

Morrigan seemed taken back. She had not expected the rebuttal or Kathryn to comment. She didn't want to get into a fight with Kathryn. She could take on Alistair, just by being meaner than he would be, hitting lower and harder than he was willing to. But Kathryn was a different matter. "It would seem that there should be another option." Morrigan said. 

"Such as what exactly, because yes, we all know this is a long shot, so if you have an idea, please don't keep it to yourself." Kathryn said, her tone harsher, her words faster. 

"Well… I…" Morrigan started and then stopped. 

"Oh, so you don't actually have a better idea but stating we look for one, the existence of which is not even certain." Kathryn replied. 

"Arl Eamon seemed to think its existence was certain." Alistair said a bit defensive. 

"This is the same man who lacked even moderate awareness of anything that occurred within his own castle?" Morrigan asked jumping back to a safer target. 

"You don't know anything about him, so don't judge him. I think this is our best hope." Alistair said. 

"Against the darkspawn? Or to revive your ailing father figure?" Kathryn saw Roland finch noticeably. She had hit a nerve. Kathryn thought about what she would go through for the smallest chance to bring back her own father. 

"Have you lived in a castle, Morrigan?" Kathryn asked. 

Morrigan hesitated. "No, you know I have not. I have lived my entire life in the wilds." 

"Then how do you have the slightest idea of what could be expected for someone to know about the goings on there?" Kathryn asked. 

"I… would assume…" Morrigan 

"Besides what that has to do with the subject at hand escapes me, since knowledge of the one would have little if anything to do with the relevance of the other." Kathryn stated her voice louder and sharper. 

Morrigan again seemed startled. "I… would…" 

"So, you're just randomly making observations about things you have no knowledge of and stating opinions you have no basis for. I see, a bit of advice, be careful doing that, you might very well end up sounding like a fool." There were smiles all around. Kathryn had embarrassed Morrigan in front of everyone and meant to. 

"Until there is another alternative, this is the plan. So, instead of wasting everyone's time stating the obvious, why not try to come up with a solution instead of simply restating the problem. And if you just wish to hear yourself talk, recite poetry or something useful." Kathryn said. 

If Morrigan was determined to be annoying and difficult, she could do it out of Kathryn's earshot. She was getting tired of her being a bully and cruel for no reason than her own amusement. She knew that Morrigan liked picking on Alistair because by being mean, she could get a reaction. There seemed to be little other point to her questions to him. Again perhaps she didn't know, and had not intended to be mean, but the result was the same. Besides Kathryn was not in the mood to play referee during their stay in town. So, hopefully Morrigan would get the hint and be quiet, and if not, well... Kathryn could play this game much better than she. 

She sent the three women off to shop, setting where and when they would meet back up. If going to intimidate mercenaries, she wanted Alistair and Roland with her and Zevran graciously volunteered to accompany them to the brothel. After the others had left, she turned to Roland. 

They had gone by Hunter's Fell on the way to Denerim to check on Roland's father and lands. As it turned out she wished they hadn't. The place had been overrun by the darkspawn. The house had been trashed. The ground itself was black and tainted. Everything was completely destroyed. It broke her heart to watch Roland walk around as if in a daze though his childhood home. 

They searched everywhere but found nothing of value nor any bodies other than darkspawn. It was the one thing that Roland had clung to, the lack of bodies. Both she and Alistair knew that the darkspawn would take survivors underground but neither wished to mention this fact to him. His other thin strand of hope was that there were several specific items missing. Things that while they had no monetary value held deep personal meaning to either him or his father. If those were gone, it was a possibility that the household had fled before being overrun. Although it was hard to account for the damage that had been done and the number of darkspawn bodies without a battle of some kind. 

The most logical place for him to go would be to Denerim. Roland thought he might stay with friends but he wasn't sure who or where they would be. Their best bet was to try to get a message to him at the tavern. Roland had not wanted to talk about any of it until then. So she had let him be. 

"Come on." She said and headed into the Gnawed Noble Tavern. They walked up to the bartender, Roland started to speak but then stopped. There was so much riding this simple question. 

Kathryn put her hand on his arm and asked the bartender. "Is there a Bann Gilmore staying here or has he been here recently?" 

The bartender thought for a moment and then said. "Older fellow, tall, quiet, beard and hair mostly grey with a bit of red left. Yes, been coming in here about everyday for the past few weeks." 

Roland looked up and with eyes wide said. "Are you sure?" 

"Yes, he gets messages here frequently." The bartender replied. 

"When… when does he come by?" Roland asked. 

"Late afternoon, generally. He is staying someplace in the city, but don't remember where." He said. 

"Would a bit of coin help your memory?" Kathryn asked. 

He smiled. "Normally it does help, but not in this case. But he should be in this afternoon." Roland's relief and joy were nearly palatable. "Shall I give him a message?" The bartender asked. 

"Yes," Roland said quickly. "Tell him Roland was here asking for him and that I'll be back this afternoon. He pushed a couple silvers to the man. "To help you remember." 

"Thank you ser, I'll make sure he gets the message." He said as he put the coins in his pocket. 

23.2 Alistair 

They arrived at the Pearl, the highest of the high-class brothels in the city. Alistair had heard of it, of course, nearly everyone who had ever been to Denerim had heard of the place. He had never been inside and it was nice. He wasn't sure what he was expecting but this wasn't exactly it. The proprietor pointed out the mercenaries causing the problems, not that they were hard to find. Kathryn used her powers of persuasion to get them to leave without a fight. 

At the other end of the main room there was a woman involved in a altercation with three men who she thoroughly thrashed. He could tell that Kathryn was intrigued and he could see why. He had of course watched Kathryn fight and could easily see the similarities between her fighting style and the woman's. 

As it turned out she was an acquaintance of Zevran's. Well, the widow of one of his marks, not that she seemed at all upset by her husband's murder or held it against Zevran in any way. Kathryn asked about her fighting style and learned that it was one of her own design and then asked if she would teach her. After a round of cards, Isabella said she would be honored to teach Kathryn. 

She had told them that she may be awhile and that they could return to the market. Alistair didn't like the idea of her walking through the city alone, especially after intimidating a violent band of mercenaries. The other two also said they were content to wait for her here. She eyed them suspiciously and with a slight smile followed Isabella out to the alley. 

"Come." Zevran said. "I shall buy both of you a drink. It is the least I can do for your hospitality." Alistair was not in a mood to refuse. 

He looked to Roland who shrugged and said. "As a true Ferelden, I won't turn down a free drink." 

"Marvelous." Zevran stepped up to the bar and said to the bartender. "My good man, please give my Ferelden friends here a mug of ale, not the cheap stuff either, at least not the really cheap stuff." 

"Yes, ser." He man replied. 

"I'll take a dark." Roland said. The man nodded. 

"If it's all the same," Alistair said tentatively. "I'd like a brandy." 

"Ah, it seems you have more sophisticated taste than I gave you credit for." Zevran said with approval. 

"Then one dark ale and two Antivan brandies, cheapest you have." He looked to Alistair. "Do not worry. The worst Antivan brandy is better than the best from anywhere else." The bartender poured the drinks. Zevran paid him and the three men took a seat at one of the tables. 

Roland took a long drink of his ale and looked around. "It has been awhile since I've been here. But it is much the same. Even a bit nicer, business must be good." 

"Oh, you've been here before?" Alistair asked a little surprised by the revelation. 

"Yes," Roland said. "First time was just after I was knighted. It is rather a rite of passage." Alistair wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that, at least not in this regard. Roland took another drink and then seeing his confusion continued. "The lords do not wish to send you off to be killed without having had one of the wonders of the Maker's world." He said with a smile. Alistair nodded. 

Roland again seeing this was new to Alistair explained. "In fact, many of the noble men come here upon their coming of age to learn the arts of love, as it were. It is good for at least one partner to know what they are doing, yes? And the best way to learn anything is from a professional." 

Again Alistair was confused. He knew about that, of course. And while the act itself was intimate, sure, it didn't seem all that complicated. At least not to the degree you would need to be taught how to do it before engaging in it with someone. 

Of course, he had learned about it from the brothers and sisters at the monastery. For if the Chantry was going to forbid something they had to at least tell you what it was you weren't supposed to do. The Chantry didn't want initiates or even templars engaging in such activities. 

The concern was not the morality of it but the woman becoming pregnant. There were not many female templars but some and you obviously can't carry on templar activities in that condition. The real issue is that templars are required to stay at their assigned post and cannot provide any support to any children or even a spouse. If the partner cannot raise any such child of a templar alone, the child is given to the Chantry to raise. 

But what the Chantry really doesn't want is for the parent of any such child to attempt to leave the order so that they may care for the child or be with their family. After investing so much time and training into each templar, they cannot afford to have them leave for any reason. 

And for those that these hardships are not enough of a deterrent, they are told that the Maker will strike them with lightening if they even attempt it. Not that he believed the lighting story, at least not now. He had known some of the initiates who had done it and none had been stuck with lightening but that wasn't the point. Alistair had had no intention of having a bastard child, of putting anyone into such a bad situation and not being able to be with his family. 

But it was entirely possible, if not probable, that the brothers and sisters at the monastery had not told him everything about the act. They definitely did not want to emphasize the more pleasurable aspects, but the fire and damnation part. He knew that it was enjoyable for both but if men came here to learn about it, perhaps there were pleasures not intrinsic to the act itself. 

"The first time?" Alistair said, suddenly realizing Roland had said that 'the first time' he had been here was upon coming of age but that meant that there were others. 

"Yes, there have been a few other occasions, both here and other places like this." Roland said. 

"So, you don't see anything wrong with it?" Alistair asked curious and without any judgment. 

"No, not really. The Chantry teaches to wait for sanction but at times that is not possible or even preferable. It is good for one party to know what they are doing. You can fumble around yourself and figure it out, but it takes time and practice and if your partner is not getting anything out of it, little reason for her to indulge your ignorance." Roland said. 

"Of course, it is better with someone you care for. That is its intent and purpose and its highest form. The casual variety is only a pale comparison to what it can be. But if no such person, if there is no such relationship, well… as with the brandy, the worst is better than none." Roland said. "You know, women come to these places too. Those who are widows or ones whose marriages are political unions, or whose husbands do not know how to please them or do not care. All people have desires and needs." 

"Very true. Desires and needs given by the Maker. If he did not wish us to engage in such activities he would not have made it quite so pleasurable, yes?" Zevran said raising his glass. "So, speaking from your own experience, how is this place? Does it deserve the renown it possesses?" 

Roland considered a moment and then said. "Well, it has the reputation as the best brothel in the country, one of the best in Thedas, in fact. Now I can't vouch either of those myself not having been to all of them. But I can say, it is very good as such establishments go. Nice, quiet rooms, at a reasonable cost. The workers are professionals, if you get my meaning." Roland said. 

"Oh yes," Zevran said with a chuckle. "I comprehend, perfectly. There was one woman I paid for was a screamer, completely unprofessional. I came out nearly deaf in one ear. It took almost three days to get the ringing to stop completely. Guard thought I was trying to kill her, although since she knew I was an assassin, I wonder if that wasn't the point." 

"Screamer?" Alistair asked before he thought the better of it. 

"Ah, you are lucky to not know what that is, my friend. It is a woman who when brought to release, in the grips of pleasure screams as though being in great pain. It can be quite embarrassing and costly. I had an… associate in Antiva took a prostitute to bed in his room. Not even halfway through his time, guards burst in and he was arrested for assault. He had to pay the wench double just to get her to tell the guard the truth. Although now that I think about it, that may have been the point there too." 

"Oh." Alistair said and decided to be silent for the remainder of the conversation. 

"Another had such convulsions and thrashings that I came out of the encounter with deep scratches on my back as though mauled by a wolf. After that I would only take her from behind although she charged more for it." 

"You went back after that?" Roland asked amused. 

"I was young and then a glutton for punishment, besides she looked better from that position anyway." Zevran took a sip of brandy. 

"Then another liked to bite and her teeth were sharp I was nearly afraid of losing my manhood in the encounter." Zevran said with a shudder. 

This time Alistair caught himself before he said anything and took a rather large sip of brandy. 

"But then there are some who are truly gifted. One lovely woman claimed to be proficient in all sixty-four positions of the ancient text Artus Amak written by the precursors to the Alimarri before they came to Ferelden and passed down through the ages by the shamans of the Avvars. Sadly, I only was able to experience twenty-seven of the positions before she was made a royal courtesan. Pity." Zevran said wistful. 

"Sixty-four!?" Alistair said incredulous and immediately wished he hadn't. 

"Yes, although technically, it is four basic position and then variations of those positions." Zevran explained. "She was so very… flexible and the things she could do with her tongue. A marvel, truly." 

Well, Alistair thought there was apparently a lot more to the act than its basic mechanics. He knew about a man's release, sure, but the woman's release was new to him. And it was such that some are known to scream? And bite and claw and apparently this is a good thing? And that there were techniques for doing this, bringing such pleasure to a woman? That must be taught and learned and practiced? And he didn't even want to know about the teeth… well... maybe… 

Zevran finished his drink and said. "So are you two planning to partake? We have time and coin for our personal needs…" 

"No," Roland said quickly. "I can wait and while it is one thing to indulge if unattached it is another if there is someone worth waiting for." 

Alistair caught the implication. Roland was going to ask Kathryn to lie with him, and soon. 

While the Chantry taught to wait for marriage, they were committed to each other and the situation they found themselves in made such formalities difficult if not impossible. For if Loghain had declared the Grey Wardens traitors, she wouldn't have standing to get married anyway. And either of them could… be killed at any time. 

The important thing was that they cared for each other, maybe even loved each other, that they were committed to each other. The sanction or approval of others didn't matter and no doubt the Maker would understand. Although he was not sure the Maker really cared that much about such things. 

Zevran smiled. "Ah, yes, of course, you are a most fortunate man to have gained the favor of one such as her. I must get another drink." Zevran stood and may his way over to the bar. 

The Chantry taught all casual sex was bad, but they had their own reasons for that and not sure any of them had to do with the best thing for an individual. It wasn't like it made you a horrible person. And many did partake of the services on offer here. 

Cheating was bad of course, but Alistair wasn't attached to anyone. He was here, he had money and the time. And apparently there was a lot about it he had no idea about and this was the accepted place to learn. Logically it made sense that you should know what you are doing, yes? It is much better to have trained with a sword before your first battle. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to… do that with someone. It wasn't like there hadn't been long nights… not that he didn't understand what they were talking about… the desire and the need.. even if there was no one he wanted to share the experiences with… or that there had not been longer nights where there was someone... he may have considered… if things were… 

It was no different for him than a knight, his life was in danger all the time. It would be unfortunate for him to die and never have had that… At this rate probably die before he got another chance… or more his luck, he wouldn't ever get another chance and live to see the next age. 

It wasn't like anyone would think him the worse for it? Probably think the better of him, make a man out of him, as it was said about it. At least, he would not be considered a child anymore. 

But he just couldn't. He didn't want that… he didn't want to do that with just anyone. He wanted it to be someone, someone he cared for, someone who wanted to be with him, not just someone he paid. 

Maybe he was old fashioned, maybe an idiot, probably both. But he could not separate his heart from his body. Just because it is common for others, did not mean it was the right thing for him. 

It was supposed to be expression of love, caring and commitment. There were pleasures but that shouldn't be the point of it, should it? Didn't that miss the point? And while one partner knowing the techniques, would be beneficial and there is much to be said for getting expertise and practice about certain things but discovering those things with the person, wouldn't that be better? Surely there must be other ways to learn, better ways. 

But he also risked it never happening for him and he knew that, and he could live with that. That was the way he was. He couldn't change and didn't want to. Maybe it was even better this way in that he would not know what he was missing. He took another sip of brandy. 

23.3 Roland 

Several moments passed both Alistair and Roland were occupied with their drinks and their own thoughts. Roland then looked around and said. "Where is Zevran? He said he was only going to get a drink, but I don't see him here." 

"I don't care. I hope he gets lost." Alistair said. He was obviously not happy that Kathryn had let him live much less let him come along. 

"Kathryn doesn't see him as a threat and thinks he could be useful." Roland said. 

"I know. That's why he isn't dead." Alistair said, his voice lower and more serious than Roland had ever heard it, threatening even. Roland looked closer. Alistair wasn't the least bit drunk but the brandy had relaxed him to a great degree. He seemed different somehow. 

"It is her decision" Roland said. "You wouldn't go against her." 

"If I thought she was in danger… that he would hurt her, yes. Damned right, I would." Alistair finished his drink. To Roland that was insubordination. He was surprised that Alistair would even consider defying her, and he didn't like it. 

"She is in charge. It not your choice and besides her safety isn't your responsibility." Roland said with a bit of force. Kathryn was the leader, and Alistair should not challenge or even question her. Besides she was Roland's responsibility, and he would protect her. He didn’t need any help. 

"No, perhaps she isn't. But the Blight is." Alistair said. "And if we have any chance to defeat it, it is because of her. I couldn't… can't do what she is doing, and I will do whatever I have to do to keep her safe, no matter whose responsibility she is. And if that means killing an assassin against orders then I will. I will not let one mistake damn everything and everyone." 

Alistair got up and walked to bar. "Another brandy, Antivan, the cheap stuff is fine." 

Roland walked up behind him. "This one is on me, plus another ale." 

Alistair looked back to the bartender. "In that case, the not so cheap stuff." The bartender poured the drinks and Roland paid for them. Alistair picked his up and then turned to Roland. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… I guess I'm used to her and the family being my responsibility… alone. Besides I was always taught you obey orders without question." Roland said. 

"So was I." Alistair said as he took a sip. "But I'm not a very good student. I guess I wouldn't have made a very good knight or a templar." 

"But you're a damned fine warden." Roland said. 

23.4 Kathryn 

"You are very good." Isabella said, slightly out of breath. "We must be kindred spirits for you to take to it so easily and quickly. The style will serve you well in your mission. I am proud to have you as a protégé, to carry on and further develop the techniques." She put her blades away. "That is the most I can show you in the time we have. You will have to practice and develop the rest on your own." 

"Thank you." Kathryn said. "You are an exceptional teacher and mentor." 

"Yes," Isabella said her voice softer. "In this as well as many other things." Kathryn looked at her. 

"Would you like to come back to my ship?" Isabella asked. "No doubt the boys can entertain themselves for a while longer and we may get to know each other better." 

She stepped up close enough to Kathryn for her to smell the sea. "There are a great many things I would like to show you in my cabin. And there, I can teach you many more things. Things I can tell you don't know, even about yourself." 

Isabella leaned in closer, her face next to Kathryn's, her mouth to her ear. "You know the hunger and the need, yes? The desire and the ache. But not the release, not their satisfaction, not their fulfillment." 

Isabella leaned back looking Kathryn in the eyes and then kissed her. Kathryn felt the rush and responded to the kiss and then she turned her head away. 

"Yes, you feel it. I can tell… but not for me… for another." Isabella smiled at her, taking her chin in her hand. 

"Farewell sweet thing, I wish you luck, in this and in all." 

Chapter 24: Denerim Part II 

24.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn made her way back into the Pearl and found Roland and Alistair drinking. She was about to ask about Zevran when he appeared. She decided that she didn't want to know and they left. On their way back to the market they meet up with the sergeant and a group of guards. 

As they were speaking they were attacked by the band of mercenaries that had left the Pearl headed by their leader. They managed to kill all of the mercenaries with only a few minor injuries, but Zevran had taken a cut to his arm. It wasn't bad and they had missed anything vital but it needed to be looked at. They headed back to the market. 

They left Zevran in Wynne's competent hands and found Leliana. They had the notice from the Chanter's Board to clear out the robbers and thieves that had infiltrated the alleyways. 

They took out the first two groups easily enough but as they approached the third location something was wrong. This group was prepared for them. 

As Kathryn surveyed the alley, she could see they were in trouble. The bandits had picked the spot well. They were surrounded and couldn't retreat, at least a couple dozen bandits occupied the alley and archers filled the higher stories raining down a deadly cross fire. 

They had to get to a better location, a more defensible one, one out of reach of the archers and not as open so as to limit the number of attackers, prevent them from being overwhelmed. She looked around. Off to the right was an alley, an off-shoot of this one. Even if a dead end, it would be better than here. It would give them a chance, but they had to get to it. 

She shouted to the others. "We have to get to alley on right. Alistair push them back. Roland cut us a path. Leliana get through and cover us. Go!" 

Alistair got up speed and rammed the group of bandits pushing them back and knocking several over. Roland now had room to swing and sliced a path through the ones that remained standing. Kathryn concentrated on keeping the two of them from being overwhelmed by the sheer number of bandits. As soon as there was an opening Leliana ran through it and once out of reach, she turned and put up a blistering rate of fire to cover the rest of them. Roland took a couple last swings and followed her. Kathryn looked back to see that Alistair was right behind them and ran through. 

24.2 Alistair 

Then Alistair felt the bolt through his leg. If he hadn't been trying to run, he could have stayed on his feet but as it was he was in mid stride. His leg buckled and he landed hard, banging his head against the ground. Immediately he was swarmed by bandits. He pulled his sword to him, curled up and covered his head and upper body with his shield. 

He couldn't tell how many there were but he was surrounded and they were hitting him as hard and fast as they could with maces, axes, swords, too fast and hard for him to be able to get to his feet. There was nothing he could do but wait, whatever was going to happen, it wouldn't take long. 

24.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn looked over the alley. This was a much better position, a defensible one and gave them a chance. She turned to say something to Alistair, but he wasn't there. She looked back and saw Alistair hit the ground and then the bandits surround him. She started to run towards them, when Roland grabbed her arm. 

"You can't go back for him." He said simply. 

"What?" She said in disbelief. 

"He's probably already dead. Kathryn, he is in the worst spot possible to try to rescue. The cross fire will kill you before you even get to him. If we all go, we will be outnumbered and surrounded immediately. It is death, Kathryn. You can't risk it." He said. 

She pulled her arm away violently. "I'm not leaving him!" She said. Roland could see by the look on her face that nothing he said would dissuade her. "You and Leliana get back to market, then. We'll meet you there or you can come back later for the bodies. Go! Both of you. Now!" She said as she turned away. 

"Kathryn!" He shouted after her. 

"I said go!" She screamed over her shoulder. He watched as she ran full speed to the alley. 

24.4 Roland 

He should go after her. But she had given him an order, a direct order from his lady and a commanding officer. What she was doing was suicide, if they all went back they would all die. He knew this. 

His years of training said you obey orders. And there were bigger things at stake. These thoughts ran a logjam in his head and stopped him from acting for the split second he needed to, then he knew it didn't matter. It was too late. 

He turned to Leliana who also looked confused and saddened. Without a word, they turned and ran out of the alley. 

24.5 Alistair 

To Alistair, the blows from the bandits seemed to get farther and farther away. The pain in his head became dulled. It would be so easy now to just let go, to slip in to the soft blackness surrounding him, float away from the pain. 

He could hold on but he knew that they couldn't come back for him. It would be suicide and they… she… had to survive. It was his own fault, well, not really, bad luck, or just a lucky shot. He was sure luck played some part in it all. 

24.6 Kathryn 

Kathryn had several grenades that Zevran had given her. She didn't know much about poisons or grenades never having used them but now seemed a good time to start. She pulled them out and started throwing them randomly without thought or plan. Fire and ice, acid and electricity burst all over the alley. 

She tore into the group surrounding Alistair, with a devastating fury that she couldn't keep up. The blasts from the grenades had only bought her so much time and she had to make the most of it. Now she could see him curled up on the ground. "Alistair!" She screamed. But he didn’t respond. 

She sliced through the last one. She threw her last two grenades, flames shot up chose enough for her to feel the burn on her face. She got to him and grabbed him, pulling him up and shouting "Alistair! Get up! We have to move or we're both dead. Get up! On your feet! Now! Alistair! Please! Please, get up!" 

24.7 Alistair 

Then the blows stopped. There were several loud crashes, blasts of heat and cold. Then a voice, his name. He followed the sound back up to the surface barely breaking through the blackness. 

It was Kathryn. What was she doing here? He had seen her get to the safety of the alley… she had… must have… come back for him? Now he forced his way through the blackness and fog. His head was pounding. He seemed to be moving in slow motion, needing to tell each individual muscle to move. 

He tried to tell her to go but he couldn't speak. It left him no choice but to get to his feet. He was nauseous and his vision was slightly blurry. He forced himself to stand. Then he felt her pull him forward. It was all he could do to stay on his feet. 

They made a dash across the alley running blind down a narrow corridor. They followed the lane, then Alistair grabbed her arm. "Stop." He said when he caught his breath. 

Kathryn shook her head. "We have to get…" 

"No, they aren't following us." Alistair said. She looked back. The way behind them was clear and she couldn't hear any sound of running or yelling that should be echoing through the small alley. 

"They have us on the run, why give up the pursuit?" She asked. 

"I don't think they did." Alistair said. "They must know where this alley leads…" 

"…and they are waiting on us there." She said. 

"Probably some place better for them than us." He said. 

Kathryn looked around. "They aren't patient…" 

"…when we don't show they will come looking for us." He said. 

"Here, we can take them a few at a time…" She said. 

"…and they can't surround us and walls too high, so, no archers." He said. 

"Yes." She nodded her head and then reached into her pack. "Here." She handed him a potion. "Drink this." He took it in nearly one swallow. Within moments, he could feel it working, his vision cleared, the nausea passed and he could feel the injury to his leg close. 

"You alright?" She asked. 

"No," he said honestly. "…but better than being dead… I think." He smiled at her and then looked serious. "You shouldn't have come back for me. It was… it is too dangerous." 

"No," she said. "We are in this together, remember. Besides you would have come back for me." 

"Yes," he admitted. "but you're more important than…" 

"Not to me." She said. He stepped closer to her and gently touched the light burn on her face. She flinched but did not move away. Then she turned towards the end of the alley. 

"Listen, I hear them." She said. They got ready for the attack. He stepped in front. "No, you're injured. I'll take front line." She said. 

"No, you won't. I'm fine, at least enough to fight and you know I'm better on front line, keeping them off you and letting you do your roguey stuff and you're better on the second line watching my back. Just follow my lead, like always. Trust me." He said. 

She considered and then smiled. "Okay." She stepped back behind him. 

From what he could tell, from the noise and his previous estimation of the numbers in the alley, they were outnumbered at least ten to one. But she had come back for him, risking her life to save him. And then when he had said she was more important than he was, she had said 'not to her.' Really, this wasn't even going to be fair. 

In many ways this was better than a warrior queen, for another warrior could only fight alongside him. Kathryn and him fought together as a team, their differing skills working in conjunction making them stronger, better than each individually. Partners… in this together. 

He got set just as the first of the bandits rushed from the alley. 

24.8 Kathryn 

Kathryn and Alistair entered the market district about the time Roland, Leliana, Zevran and Wynne had reached the entrance. 

"We were just coming after you." Roland said with no small amount of surprise. 

"Oh," she said casually. She looked to Wynne. "Alistair needs to be looked at." 

Wynne stepped to him and looked in his eyes. "Not too bad." She said. She closed her eyes and touched the side of his head. You could barely see the light from her fingers as it seemed to seep into his skin. When she was done, she looked to him. "Better?" 

"Yes." He said. 

"You still need some rest. No more fighting." Wynne said with just a note of admonishment. 

"Fair enough. Think I've had all I can handle today anyway." He said with a smile. 

"I need to report our success to the Chanter and collect the reward. Then we all need to do some shopping and we'll meet back at the tavern later." The rest said they would go to the blacksmith and then the Wonders of Thedas. Leliana said she would go with Kathryn and explore the bazaar. As the group broke up, Roland waited. Leliana said that she would meet her in the market in a few minutes. 

Kathryn and Roland walked towards the Chantry. 

"I'm sorry." Roland finally said. 

"For?" Kathryn asked. 

"I shouldn't have questioned you like that… and I should have gone with you." Roland said. She could tell he felt badly about it. 

"I told you to go. It was dangerous and some of us had to survive." She said matter of fact. 

"I know still… I left you to fend for yourself and him." He said. 

"Probably you should question such an action, not the brightest decision I've made but I wasn't going to leave him, not like that." She said. 

"Yes, I see that." Roland said. 

Kathryn looked at him. His tone of voice was odd. "Or anyone else for that matter…" She stopped and Roland turned back to look at her. "I can't start thinking I'm more important or that I can't risk myself. You know that the surest way to get killed is to try not to." 

"But you are more important, you know that." He said. 

"Even if that is true, I can't be other than I am. I couldn't have lived with myself if I had left him to die. You know that." She said. 

"I know." He said somewhat exasperated. "I just worry." 

"I know, so do I." She said. 

He stepped closer to her. "I see you at risk like that, it makes me realize how important you are to me." He reached up brushed the hair from her face and gently kissed her. 

"Come on. Let's get our money and buy things." She said with a smile. 

"I need to get to the tavern, it is nearly time." He said. 

"Is it that late? Then go. We will meet you at the tavern." She said. Roland headed off across the market square. 

24.9 Kathryn 

Kathryn collected the reward and then found Leliana talking to a dark-headed woman with an Orlesian accent, who was selling flowers and scented oils along with other luxury items. 

They picked out few gifts for the rest, a woolen shawl for Wynne, a dark purple and green silk scarf for Morrigan, wool socks for Alistair, and incense for Sten. Leliana found some hair oil that smelled of the blossoms of a fruit that only grew in the warm countries. It had a nice fresh slightly sweet smell to it. Kathryn bought it and one for herself said to smell of a night blooming flower, a dark lovely fragrance. She also got a small bottle for Zevran that smelled like a mix of leather, burning wood and the sea. With their treasures they browsed the rest of the market. They got Sten an entire box of cookies and Leliana found a small lute. 

"So… you and Roland…" Leliana said suggestively as they started back to the tavern. 

"What about me and Roland?" Kathryn said sounding innocent. 

"Details! You promised details." Leliana said with fake exasperation. "I need steamy bits to add romance to my tale! Come, spill it! What are you holding back?" 

"Nothing." Kathryn said. "There are no steamy details, sorry." 

"I had noticed he is still spending his evenings alone, but was hoping that was for propriety's sake and that there were all kinds of forbidden acts being performed out of the reach of prying eyes." Leliana mused. 

"Oh, well, no, nothing like that…" Kathryn said looking at the ground. 

"He desires you, you know." Leliana said. 

"I know… I just…" Kathryn took at deep breath. "I have never… been with a man… and I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet." She said slightly embarrassed. "Besides he hasn't asked me to, although, I think he may soon." 

Leliana nodded. "Well, do not let him rush you before you are ready. He will wait." 

"I'm not sure how I'll know if I'm ready. Or if I'll ever be ready." Kathryn said. 

"Well," Leliana thought. "When he kisses you, do you feel the rush of desire? Are you overwhelmed by your need for him? Do you have a hunger to feel his skin against yours? Oh, that's good. I should write that down." 

"Well…" Kathryn said unsure. 

"I mean… you've imagine how his arms would feel wrapped around you, putting your head on his strong shoulders, having your body pressed against his, your legs wrapped around his hips, your hands clenching his as…" 

"Leliana!" 

"Assets." Leliana said with a smile. "Well have you?" 

"I…" Kathryn said, feeling a flush more than the slight burn on her face. 

"Or perhaps you only imagine his other attribute." Leliana said teasing. 

"What other attribute, exactly?" Kathryn asked confused. 

"His attribute. You know, shape or size." Leliana said. 

"Oh, they come in sizes?" Kathryn asked somewhat embarrassed but curious. 

"Yes, of course." Leliana said with a laugh. "They say you can tell by a man's hands but that's not been my experience. I was once to seduce this noble so as to get access to his bedroom safe. He had these massive hands. It was a real disappointment, I tell you." 

"I see." Kathryn replied suddenly becoming interested in a table of goods. 

"It would seem your Roland would be good in bed." Leliana said considering. 

"Would it?" Kathryn replied. 

"Yes, strong, has endurance and discipline. Most men are like over-eager puppies really. They get all excited and then it is over before you know it. He is patient and gentle too." Leliana said. He has experience, yes?" 

"Yes, he does, some." Kathryn admitted. 

"Most do. But that can be good. Let him practice on someone else, then you have less to teach him. Although imagination and open-mindedness can make up for a lot. Even a man with vast experience if he has no imagination can be dull. The best technique in the world becomes boring if done all the time or without enthusiasm." Leliana explained. 

Kathryn stopped walking. "Leliana..." 

"Yes." She said turning back to her. 

"Is it really that wonderful?" Kathryn asked. "I mean, people go on about it but is it really?" 

"Yes, it can be, especially with the right person. It is pleasurable, yes, if done right, and can be so whether you care about the person or not. But when between two people in love, in passionate love… it really is." Leliana said. 

"How do you know when you're ready?" Kathryn asked. 

"You'll know." Leliana said. "The same way you know that he is the person for you, you just know." Kathryn looked concerned and started walking again. 

Leliana continued. "That kind of love, the true love between people. It is rare, in fact it is a privilege to even see it in others. It is the love that endures, that conquers all, that calls to your heart and forces you to listen. It speaks to your spirit and your soul, to your very bones and skin and they understand. It cannot be forced or coerced or compelled if it does not exist between people, and it cannot be hidden nor ignored nor destroyed where it does." 

"It is hard and even cruel at times. A beautiful but terrible thing. It takes strength to love like that and courage to even try. It is the love of the old tales, the ones that endure, for we all wish that, even if we are not capable of it. It is the love of the gods, of heroes and heroines, of legend." 

"Have you been to the tavern already?" Kathryn asked. 

"Maybe…" Leliana said with a slight smile. 

24.10 Roland 

Roland made his way across the market square towards the tavern. He was trying hard to not get his hopes up. It was possible that the bartender had been mistaken, or that someone was impersonating his father or some other explanation he hadn't thought of. Seeing his childhood home completely destroyed had hit him hard and not knowing what had become of his father had weighed on his mind unbearably. It was nearly too good to be true that he was alive and safe in Denerim and so Roland would not believe it until he had confirmed it with his own eyes. 

Roland stepped into the tavern. It was late afternoon and there were only a few patrons, the relative calm before the evening storm. As he looked around examining each one. He saw a figure stand up in the back. He looked up and saw an older man, tall, stately with a calm demeanor, grey hair and beard that still contained traces of red that at one time had been the same color as his own. 

Bann Gilmore started towards him but Roland being the younger was able to cover the distance faster. The two men embraced warmly. 

"My boy. My boy." The bann said over and over in a voice not steady. Finally they let go and looked over the other through huge smiles and quiet laughter. Roland could see that his father had aged considerably since he had last seen him, and figured that had more to do with the darkspawn than the passage of time. 

The bann let out a deep breath and found his voice again. "Come, my boy. Let us sit and share a drink. Bartender, two of your finest dark ales." 

"Yes, ser. Right away." He answered. They both sat in one of the booths. Roland now noticed the slight limp the bann had and how slowly he moved. The bartender brought over the ales. 

Roland said. "I went by Hunter's Fell…" 

"Yes," the bann said sadly. "It is destroyed but the important thing is that no one of the household was lost. We were lucky, so very lucky." 

"What happened?" Roland asked. 

The bann took a deep breath. "We had heard the darkspawn were coming. We made plans to flee but they moved much faster than anyone foresaw. We were attacked. There were so many. You would kill one and two would take its place. There was nothing to do but barricade ourselves inside the manor and pray.” 

“We spotted a band of mercenaries and scavengers in the distance. One of the boys made a run for it to get their help. I sent a letter with him saying they could have the entire contents of the house and the vault if they would help us. Thank the Maker they agreed. They were able to drive the darkspawn back long enough for us to escape and them to ransack the house. They took everything but they held to their side of the bargain and escorted us to safety. It cost us nearly everything but we all survived… we all survived." The bann said overcome by emotion. 

"There is no cost too much for your lives. May the Maker bless them." Roland said. 

The bann looked up and said. "When I arrived I heard the rumors of what happened at Highever… I feared you…" 

"I nearly did but I was able to escape. The lord and lady are gone. Fergus is missing but Kathryn lives." Roland said. 

"Thank the Maker for that." The bann said. "Come tell me all." 

Roland took a drink of his ale and then began to recount recent events. 

24.11 Kathryn 

Kathryn and Leliana arrived at the Wonders of Thedas. The rest were milling about the shop. Leliana went to help Wynne pick out a new and warmer robe. Kathryn saw that Alistair was looking in one of the cases and walked over to him. 

Alistair looked up as she approached. "Oh, the blacksmith said could have everything repaired by close today, just have to go back and pick it up." 

"Good. Thank you. What are you looking at?" She asked. 

"Nothing, just looking really." He said. Kathryn looked into the case and saw that it was filled with different game sets, including cards and dice but predominately it contained sets of what was called at least in Ferelden 'The King's Game.' 

It is a game played by two people on a ten by ten checked board. Each person has a set of pieces, one white and one black that represent the different figures in a battle: King, Chancellor, General, Knight, Solider. The winner is whoever can capture the opponent's king. The game is a part of noble culture, nearly all of the nobility play and it is used to teach war strategy. 

Kathryn asked indicating the sets. "Do you play?" 

"No, I really don't know anything about it. They are nice sets though." Alistair said. 

Kathryn looked at him curiously, considered and then said. "The problem with the ones where each piece is distinctive is that doesn't allow for promotion." She said. 

"Oh, those are Tevinter sets. In that version you can only promote if the greater piece has already been captured, so you just substitute the captured piece in for the promoted piece." Alistair explained. 

So you do play. Kathryn thought. 

Alistair took a last look at the sets and then turned to her. "I've got a couple things to get at the market. I'll meet you back at the tavern." 

"All right." She said and watched as he walked out of the shop. 

The proprietor walked over to her and said in a monotone. "Can I help you?" 

"Yes, do you have any king's game sets that are fit for traveling? That maybe have a case with them?" Kathryn asked. 

"Yes, several nice sets." He answered. 

Kathryn picked out a good durable set that had a case and then went to look at the shop's wide book selection. She wanted one on lockpicking. She had picked up the basics of the skill as a child. All rogues have an aptitude for mechanical things but she had more than that. She had enjoyed stealing cookies from the kitchen. Somehow the ones she stole always tasted much better than the others. The cook became more and more vigilant and stealing them became more and more of a challenge and thus the more rewarding. 

The cook finally resorted to locking them in the larder. Kathryn had seen that as simply another obstacle and was determined to learn to pick the lock. After more than a month of sneaking out of her room at night to practice, she was finally able to open the larder door. The cook didn't believe that a child could pick such a lock and from them on blamed the thefts on the castle soldiers. 

Kathryn searched through the titles. She finally found one on advanced lockpicking, another on traps and finally one on the basics of poisons and grenades. As she browsed through the rest of the titles, she found a book on the history and legends of Ferelden. She remembered how much Roland had enjoyed the subject as a child and added it to her growing collection. 

The last bookshelf was filled with works of fiction. The bottom shelf contained Antivan romances. She had heard of these. They were talked of by the noble ladies, guarded as fine jewels and discretely passed one to the other. She opened the book, flipping through the pages. Several interesting phrases caught her eye, "…wracked by waves of pleasure…; …was throbbing madly…; "Take me now!" She cried.; …Antivan milk sandwich… She quickly closed the book and then after making sure no one had seen her added it to her stack. 

Chapter 25: Denerim Part III 

25.1 Alistair 

Alistair stepped out of the Wonders of Thedas. He had done what little shopping he needed to do earlier. Now he had something else to look for. He had the address for his sister's house and knew that it was around here… somewhere. But it wasn't like the houses were marked all that clearly nor the names of the streets on signs or anything. He wandered around looking over each house and then just like that, there it was. 

He had been thinking about this moment… wondering about it… hoping for it and here it was… right before him. She might be inside right now, just on the other side of the door. He wanted to knock, go in, but he was paralyzed. He didn't know what to expect, or what he was hoping to find. 

No, that's not true. He hoped to find what he had been looking for his entire life… a home, some place that he belonged, someone to belong to. His whole life he had been on the outside of everything, unwanted and inconvenient, a cast off and an outcast, alone… always. At the castle, at the monastery, only with the Grey Wardens had he any sense of belonging, but even there he knew it was because of what he was, a warden. It was because he had survived and had earned the right to be there, but it wasn't because of who he was. 

She may not even know he exists, that he ever existed. Would she be happy to see him, to find out about him? That seemed too much to ask, too much to hope for, but still he couldn't help but hope. He had missed the chance with his brother and now it was too late for them. He didn't want to miss this one. 

He stepped up to the door, put his hand on the latch, but he couldn't do it… there was too much… too much riding on this… it was too important… he was too nervous. He didn't even know what to say to her, and what if she... He let go of the latch and backed away, turning quickly and walking away before anyone saw him. He would ask Kathryn to come back with him. She would come with him and then if… something… whatever happened… at least she would be there. She would come… he knew she would… 

25.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn, Leliana, Wynne and Zevran settled into one of the comfortable booths at the tavern, surrounded by the results of their shopping. Kathryn looked around but didn't see Roland or anyone matching the description of Bann Gilmore. Perhaps the bann had sent word or had arrived earlier and left a message for Roland to meet him someplace else. She wasn't concerned and figured he would return soon. 

The waitress brought their drinks: Kathryn's Orlesian red wine, Leliana's white wine, Wynne's amber ale and Zevran's Antivan brandy. 

"Has anyone seen Morrigan?" Kathryn asked after everyone had their drinks. 

"She decided to return to camp after she was done shopping." Leliana said. "I do not think she wished to risk a repeat of this morning's reproof. She seems to be much more comfortable on the 'dishing it out' side than on the receiving end of such verbal assaults." 

"That was most impressive by the way, well done indeed." Zevran said with approval. 

"She deserved it." Leliana said with conviction. 

"She just likes being difficult." Kathryn said feeling somewhat sorry for her in this moment. "It is her way. I do not think she means anything by it. Do remember she was raised in a swamp. She has not had much contact or dealings with people." 

"And it shows." Leliana said without any such sympathy. 

"Yes, it seems much sour grapes with her. She discounts and ridicules what she does not have, and cannot do. Make friends, be civil and enjoy the easy conversation of others." Wynne said. 

"It is not very nice, and she must know this." Leliana said. 

"True, but I think she just wishes a reaction and does not mean harm. She may grow out of it in time." Kathryn said hopeful. 

"I was quite prickly in my younger days" Wynne said with a sad smile. "Perhaps she may mellow with age and maturity, but I hope for all our sakes she does soon." 

Kathryn began searching through her purchases. Then she handed a small bottle to Zevran. "Here, give you something to smell other than wet dog and you have no doubt noticed that with the dampness hair gets unmanageable." 

"Oh yes." He said taking the bottle. "My hair has been a mess since arriving." He opened the bottle and took a sniff. "Yes, manly but soft. Marvelous!" He took a small drop and ran it through his hair. "Much better. I thank you." 

Kathryn pulled out the woolen shawl and handed it to Wynne. "Here with the new robe it should keep you warm." 

"Oh lovely!" Wynne said and wrapped it around her. "Thank you, my dear." 

"I do wonder what other treasures you have procured." Zevran said peering into her bags. 

"Cookies for Sten and incense. A scarf for Morrigan. A few books…" She said. 

"Oh, what about?" Leliana said interested. 

"Nothing!" Kathryn said too loudly and quickly. "Skill books, nothing interesting at all." The other three looked at each other curiously. She continued. "And then socks for Alistair." 

"Yes, good." Wynne said. "He needs them. You would think that boy never washes." 

Leliana and Kathryn looked at each other and then to Wynne. "Really? I never noticed anything like that." Kathryn said cautiously. 

"How could you not?" Wynne asked. 

"Well, I think my dear Wynne that the smell you speak of is less unpleasant to those who are not as advanced in… wisdom as you." Zevran said. 

"What are you trying to say?" Wynne asked. 

"Well, humans have distinctive scents, as most any dog would attest to. Men who are in or approaching their… prime have a certain smell, a musky scent, that is not so unpleasant to those of the opposite or even same sex who are of a certain age and interest..." Zevran said. 

"So are you implying I am old?" Wynne said. Kathryn and Leliana smiled discretely. 

"No, I would never… I simply said that you are past the age where someone of his age and maturity level is attractive to you. That is all." Zevran said. 

"How do you know about scents?" Leliana asked changing the subject. 

"Oh, all Antivans know about such things. Antivans first developed the art of scents to intoxicate and attract, to influence mood and desire. The Crows use them… well, let us just say, in a professional capacity." 

Kathryn looked up to see Roland walking towards them from the back of the tavern. "I was just coming to look for you all." He said. 

"I didn't see you." Kathryn explained. 

"We were in the back." He said. Kathryn looked and behind him was a older man. "Kathryn, may I present my father, Bann Gilmore. Father, this is the Lady Kathryn Cousland." 

The man stepped forward with a slight limp and took Kathryn's hand. "It is good to see you again, though the last time you were still a child. May I say you have become a lovely woman." 

"A pleasure, Bann Gilmore. I am glad to see that you are well." Kathryn said. 

"Yes, a bit worse for wear but well." He said with a smile. 

"Father, these are our other companions I spoke of: Senior Enchanter Wynne of the Ferelden Circle of Magi, Leliana a Lay Sister of the Lothering Chantry and… Zevran." Roland said. 

"It is good to meet you all." Bann Gilmore said and turned back to Kathryn. "Please you must allow me to buy you all a good meal. The place I am staying in small and I do not wish to overtax the estate or impose on their gracious hospitality but I insist on being a good host." 

"Thank you, Bann Gilmore. It is much appreciated." Kathryn said. 

"Then it is settled. Come, I shall have them set up a table for us in the back." They gathered their bags. Kathryn allowed the rest to go before her and as she started to follow she saw Alistair walk into the tavern. 

"You are just in time. Roland's father is about to buy us dinner… are you alright?" She said. 

"Yes, no… I… found my sister's house." He said. 

"That's wonderful! Was she home? Did you speak to her?" She asked. 

"No… I don't know. I didn't… I… could you… would you come with me? I don't know what to expect and… I…" He said. 

"Of course, I can come with you." She replied. 

25.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn had never been so angry during the entire course of her life. 

It turned out that Alistair's sister was a money-grubbing shrew, bitter and spiteful, mean-spirited and selfish. Kathryn knew that in all likelihood she had had a hard life and that part of her own anger was the sorrow of losing her brother and the knowledge of what this had meant to Alistair. This had been his last chance for a family and it had all gone wrong. 

Goldanna seemed determined to blame him for things that weren't his fault and use guilt and emotional abuse to try and get as much money as she could out of him. Kathryn had been generous with other people but she had a moral problem with rewarding selfish and hurtful behavior and she would be damned if that bitch got one copper of their money. 

But what she was most angry about was that she had to save Alistair from her. He was so desperate for a family that he would try to buy love and acceptance. It infuriated her that he would allow that shrew to talk to him like that. He didn't deserve that. He would let her abuse him, because he just seemed to expect it. She could see that as disappointed as he was, part of him seemed to accept that he deserved to be hurt and rejected by all who should love and care for him. 

Standing outside the house, she could see the devastation and the loneliness in him. He was heartbroken. She wanted more than anything to put her arms around him, to tell him that there were others who did care about him. There were those in camp… and there was her. She wanted to say that he did not need anyone like that. That in the short time they had known each other he had become more than a friend to her. That she… cared for him…as a… brother, as family. She wanted to pull him to her, put his head on her shoulder and tell him that he had a place with her and that he always would. 

But she knew that she couldn't. That would comfort and console him, yes, but she understood that this was an opportunity for more. He was vulnerable and hurting. This had torn his heart open, exposing deep and old wounds, that now had a chance to heal. This is the point when people can change, when they are this open, when they are in this much pain. This is when they listen, when they have no choice not too. She had a chance to say things now that may affect him the rest of his life. She had the opportunity to show him things that at any other time he may not see or hear. 

But she also knew that she risked a friendship that meant more to her than anything else. For if he didn't see it, if he took the pain and turned it towards her, took her words and held them against her, he may hate her for what she was about to do and she would lose him forever. She could just be safe, reassure, calm and soothe him, be there for him as he no doubt wanted and felt he needed at this moment. No one could fault her for that. 

It was folly to risk their bond with a blight to fight, especially one they had to fight together and without assistance. But no, she couldn't do that. She had to do the right thing by him, even if he hated her for it, for it was the right thing to do. She would rather walk through fire than hurt him but wisdom only comes through suffering; change only with struggle; understanding with pain. 

"I feel like a complete idiot." He said, stunned. 

Her own heart was breaking for him. She had never felt worse in her life. She felt as though she was about to kick a lost puppy, and she was afraid… but courage is acting despite fear, and it was something she had never lacked. 

She set her jaw and through clenched teeth said. "No you aren't a complete idiot, but you put too much faith in people, too much trust and expectation. There are good people in the world, true, but many if not most are selfish and determined to do for themselves no matter the cost to others." 

"She is a money grubbing shrew. Her being your sister doesn't change that or make her a good person or worthy of your time and efforts. It is obvious that she was only interested in you for what she could get, for money and support and you would have given it to her, subjected yourself to her emotional abuse because you are so desperate for a family, and so willing to not only believe people good but that you deserve to be treated badly." 

"If you had any self-respect at all, you would not allow yourself to be mistreated by others the way that you do. You would not allow her to talk to me like that. You cannot call yourself a man, if you are willing to sell your self-respect for the love and consideration of others who are not worthy of it, only a whore." She could see how her words affected him, hurt and stung him, but she could not go back now. She would see it through, and before she was done for good or ill she would see if this lost puppy had fangs. 

"If you cannot stand up for yourself, if you cannot look out for yourself, exactly who do you think will? We must all look out for ourselves first, that is the way of the world. Even those who care, good people who would do anything for others, must consider themselves first. You are naïve to think otherwise. The world is not fair nor just and being good is not enough." 

"You deserve better but you must be the one to ensure that, you cannot allow others to do it for you. I understand that you have always been told what to do, your decisions made for you, but at some point you must take responsibility for your own life. You must consider your own needs, and what you want. For even now, when you have the choice, you allow others to make decisions for you. You hide behind duty. Yes, I said hide, because it is easier. For then, you do not have to make decisions, or take a stand." 

"You are a good person, intelligent, brave, with good judgment in all else. You have such strength but you are too afraid to use it. You are caring and kind, one of the best people I have ever known. You deserve respect and to be happy but those things are not given to you. You must demand and fight for them, show that you deserve them." 

"If you wish to continue to be a coward, then so be it. But know that is your choice." 

"Alright, enough." He said staring through her with eyes set and cold. She could see he was angry and deeply hurt by what she had said. "I don't want to talk anymore. I don’t want to talk to you anymore." He turned and walked away. 

Kathryn waited till she was sure he was gone and then buried her face in her hands. 

25.4 Alistair 

Alistair turned and walked away. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't care, just away… away from her. He had too many thoughts flying through his head, too many emotions. He couldn't even sort through them. He was angry, furious, disappointed, frustrated, heart-broken and more angry, although not entirely sure at who or why. 

By the time he calmed down enough to care where he was, he was at the docks. He watched the water and the dock workers for a long time. He saw the boats. He had the whimsical thought to leave, but that's a coward's way. She had said that, that he was a coward, that he choose to be one. It felt like a slap in the face or a punch to the gut, especially from her. He had never expected her to say things like that to him. It was worse than finding out about his sister. He had nearly expected that but not Kathryn… not for her to turn on him like that… especially then… especially after… that. 

The dock workers were getting off work. He heard talk about getting a drink. Yes, he needed a drink. He watched where they went and followed them to a tavern along the dock called The Broken Sword. He stepped inside. It was nice, warm fires roaring, big and open, friendly place. You could smell food cooking and it smelled good. He looked around, there were all kinds of people there, elven dock workers, dwarven merchants, human mercenaries and soldiers, some well dressed, more less so. Voices in all kinds of accents flowed together, Orlesian, Antivan, Riviani. 

There was a man behind the bar, older, tough looking but with a gregarious demeanor. He greeted nearly everyone by name or drink order. When he saw Alistair he gave a big smile, a big new customer smile, no doubt, but after the day Alistair had had, he could use it. 

"Come in." He said to Alistair as he walked up to the bar. "I don't recognize you. First time here or is my memory getting bad?" 

"No, I've never been here before." Alistair said. 

"Ah, passing through?" He asked. 

"Yes." Alistair said. 

"Get a lot of those through here, travelers, merchants, mercs. Come make yourself at home. We have the best selection of imported wines and spirits and the finest Ferelden ales. My wife's the best cook this side of the Frostbacks. We have the latest rumors and the best gossip. Bard will be here soon. Front hall is warm and noisy. If you want privacy, there are the back booths. Everyone is welcome as long as they pay their tab and don't cause trouble. If you have a problem with anyone, leave. Lastly, the women who work here, cook, waitress and tend the bar, only. If you want company upstairs you get your own. So, what can I get you?" The man said. 

"Brandy, Anitivan, cheap, but not really cheap." Alistair said. 

"Yes, ser." The man said with a smile. Alistair took his drink and settled in one of the back booths by the fire. 

Alistair had never felt worse. The first night at the monastery wasn't like this. Even when he was told he was being sent away, when he had been so hurt and angry, that he had thrown his amulet against the wall. He took it out from under his chest piece and looked at it, riddled with cracks. Then his Grey Warden amulet, connected with those two pieces were all the people he had ever cared about, who had ever cared about him and they had all betrayed or abandoned him, either willingly or no, but still, it was all he had left of them. 

Somehow Kathryn was the worst, because she had been the one he hadn't expected. For her to say those things… kick him while he was down. He had thought she cared, that she was a friend, that was why he has asked her to come with him. Then when it all went wrong, she had gotten him out of there, sure but then to yell at him… say… those things… they hurt worse than… how could she? He had just lost his chance for a family… it was cruel and he never expected that from her… she… he didn't understand. 

He didn't want to understand. He wanted to be angry and yell at her and forget that he had ever thought of her as a friend much less ever wanted anything else, but he couldn't. It hurt too much… more than he could ignore or block out. It was too much for him to just forget. 

And it wasn't like she hadn't just risked her life to save him that day either. He had to reconcile that, had to make peace with it, somehow. She cared about him, he knew that, he knew it. If she hadn't and if he wasn't so sure of it, what she had said wouldn't hurt like it did. He knew her too. She was a good person, not one to just be mean for her own amusement, not like Morrigan. So why did she do it? Why say those things? Why make him feel like this? 

He turned it over and over, staring into the fire, sipping his brandy and then the answer came to him in a voice he hadn't heard before. One that sounded like his but different somehow. Because she was right, it said. And maybe she said those things because he needed to hear them. 

Goldanna was a money grubbing shrew who would have emotionally abused him to get whatever she could out of him, worked his desperate desire for a family to her own advantage and played him for everything she could. He didn't owe her anything. He could see that now, but then he would have agreed to help her, just for the chance at what she would never give him. 

All his life, he had been told what to do, not ever had to or been allowed to make a decision for himself. He had never thought about what he wanted. It just never seemed to matter to anyone, not even to him. Others made all the decisions and he did what he was told. 

What had Kathryn said to him… 

If he had any self respect, he would not allow others to treat him as they do. If he cannot look out for himself, no one will. That he must take responsibility for his own life, and not allow others to make decisions for him. That he should consider his own needs and what he wanted. That he deserves to be happy, but he had to be the one to do it. That he has a choice to be a coward or not. 

And she was right about all of it. Every word rang true to him now, in a way it never had before. 

Maybe why he had asked her to go with him. He knew he was a coward and wanted her to look out for him. So that he did not have to make that decision, he could let her make it for him. Which is what happened. He knew Kathryn would not let anything bad to happen to him and she hadn't. He knew he didn't have the courage to take a stand and he let her do it for him. He had not seen it before and now with the truth before him he was completely ashamed of himself. 

He didn't want to continue like this, not because of her, of what she wanted for him, but because that was what he wanted for himself. This was not the kind of man he wanted to be. He wanted to be man who could take stand for himself and others and for what he truly believed in. He wanted to be happy, and he never would be like this. He wanted to take charge of his life, take responsibility. He wanted to be someone he would respect. 

Now, he understood that instead of comforting him, she had taken this opportunity to show him things, things about himself he needed to see, and that at any other time he wouldn't have seen, wouldn't have wanted to see. 

She had done a hard and difficult thing, a courageous thing for him, in the hopes that he would learn from it and be better because of it. It occurred to him that he had found what he had been looking for… just not where he was looking for it. 

Kathryn had not only risked her life for him and stood up for him to his sister, but made him face hard truths about himself, because she wanted him to be more than what he was, but what he could be. She wanted him to look out for himself, take a stand and be happy. That is better than family that only accept you unconditionally. 

She was a true friend, more than he could have ever asked or hoped for, so much more than he ever expected. He knew that it would take courage to change, to take a stand, to be a better person and a better man. He had never had that before but now… he felt, he believed, that he could do it, because she believed he could. 

25.5 Kathryn 

Kathryn stared into the fire. They had enjoyed an excellent meal at the tavern. Roland was going to stay the night with his father, and the rest of them had returned to camp. But Alistair wasn't back yet. She had left word at the tavern but it had been hours and she was starting to worry. He could take care of himself, sure, but he had been upset and it wasn't like they didn't have enemies in the city. 

She heard Drake give his happy bark and looked up in time to see Alistair enter the camp. He walked up to where she was sitting and sat down next to her. He didn't look angry, that was a good sign, she thought. 

"You know, I've been thinking…" He said. 

"About what?" She asked hopeful. 

"About what you said. And I think you're right." Kathryn felt the metal bands that had been around her chest since that discussion finally loosen and she was able to breathe again. 

Alistair continued. "I do need to look out for myself more, stop letting everyone else make my decisions for me, do what I want for a change or I’ll never be happy." She looked him in the eye. He had said this with surety and determination. She could see the change in him already, in his face and eyes. She liked it. 

"About time." She said with conviction and warmth. 

"I want to thank you. You've been a great friend through all of this, a true friend." He said. 

"Well, we are in this together." She said with a relieved smile. 

"That we are." He said with a laugh. "I have your back; you know that, right?" 

"Yes, I know. I know you do." She reached over and took his hand. He held hers in his. "Just as I have yours, in all things." 

Chapter 26: Sixth Camp 

26.1 Alistair 

Alistair couldn't help but be a little disappointed. He got socks. They were nice socks, warm, fine wool, not what he was used to that's for sure. But still they were socks. Zevran got hair oil that smelled good, Wynne got a shawl, Leliana perfume, Sten got incense, even Morrigan got a scarf and he got… socks. Not that he didn't need socks but still… 

Leliana walked up to him and stood with her hands behind her. "I heard you had a rough day." She said. 

"Yes, you could say that." He answered. 

"This might cheer you up a bit." She brought one of her hands around and handed him a small but long wooden box. He opened it. The box contained several sticks of charcoal of varying thickness and hardness. "And since you can't draw on air." She brought her other hand around which held another box this one very narrow but nearly a foot square. He eagerly opened it and saw that it contained thin sheets of paper. He looked up at her in happy disbelief. "I got the thin cheap stuff, thought it would be good to practice on, but if you look at them crossly they tear." She said with a laugh. 

"Wow!" He said, delighted with his gifts and stunned that she had remembered such an off-hand remark. "I… don't know what to say." 

"Well, I have heard that it is common to say 'thank you' when someone gets you a gift." She said teasing. 

"Oh… of course… that! Thank you! I… can't believe… Thank you." He said warmly. 

Leliana smiled. "Now, I will let you practice, but I do want to see your art when you're ready." 

"Yes, yes… I… yes." He said with a big grin. She smiled a lovely smile, then turned and walked away. 

He looked over his treasures. He couldn't believe she had remembered or that she had actually found these and spent her own money on them. He watched as she took up her place by the fire on the other side. 

She got out her lute and began to tune it. He could tell that it had been a while since she had played. She toyed with the notes and strings, the cords and melodies. Occasionally hitting the wrong notes and adjusting and trying again. He liked listening to her play and sing. He could tell the others were listening too. Even Sten had gotten closer to the fire, despite the fact that he was acting like he wasn't paying attention. 

Alistair couldn't get over the fact that she had bought these things for him. Was it really possible that she… liked him? She was pretty, well… hot, really, her personality sparkled, her laugh could not help but make you happy. When she smiled at him, it warmed his heart, made him feel good. 

She was brave and cunning. That she was not content to allow others to fight but wanted to help against the Blight, vision or no, to act on her beliefs showed character and courage. She was a good person with a good heart, and despite all she had been through and suffered she still believed in the goodness of the world and of people. And then she also had nice legs. 

What he felt for her was different than what he felt for Kathryn, but he felt something and a lot of it. It didn't hurt to look at her. It didn't feel like he'd been punched in chest when she smiled at him. It felt good. This was what he had imagined liking someone would be like. Wasn't love supposed to make you happy? Make you feel good? 

He now realized that what he felt for Kathryn… was a crush. She was a natural leader and had taken over when he could not. She was intelligent and courageous and beautiful with a sense of humor and had been nice to him and he had developed a crush on her. That's all it was, an idealized, unrealistic, immature, imagined and childish crush. And even if those feeling could possibly develop into something more, she didn't return them. She simply didn't feel that way about him. Perhaps that was why he could feel that way, why the feelings he had could be so strong, because they were safe. Because it was all in his head. 

But now he had the possibility of something real, and he wouldn't hide from it in a made up fantasy. That wasn't what he wanted… it wasn't enough, not anymore. He wanted someone to stand with, to fight alongside, a partner in all things, and he wanted to find out if Leliana could be that for him. 

He took out a sheet of paper and using the box as a desk, tried out the pencils. They were much different then what he had used before. He had to get the grip on them right. As a child he had held pencils one way but his hands were different. They had changed by age but also by training, stronger, of course, but also calloused from holding weapons. Several had been broken at least once and didn't bend exactly as they should. He adjusted his grip over and over, trying to find one that allowed him the movement he needed. Finally he found a grip that worked. 

He started with what seemed random lines and then connected them, seeing the picture in his mind not as real objects but lines and shading, angles, and the play of light and dark. After an hour, the first sheet was filled with lines and sketches, experiments and mistakes, but it had started coming back to him. He looked at the mess of small drawings, and put it back in the box and took out another sheet. Now to see what he could do. 

It is easiest to draw what you can see. He started with the tents, trees, fire, cooking pot, bedrolls, then the dog with his bone, Wynne with her knitting, Leliana with her lute, Zevran staring at the stars. 

"That's good." He heard from behind him. Kathryn had walked up and was looking over his shoulder at the drawing. "I didn't know you could do that." She said impressed. 

"Oh, thanks. I… haven't done it since I was a child at the castle. I'm still getting the hang of it again." He said. 

"I didn't know they sold such in the market." She said looking at the pencils. "Where did you find them?" 

"Oh, Leliana got them for me." He said embarrassed by the admission for some reason. 

"She did." Kathryn looked somewhat confused. "Why? I mean… how did she know you could…" 

"I… we were talking… before… and I mentioned it." Alistair explained. 

"Oh!" She said surprised. "You were talking and you mentioned it, just like that. She didn't even have to ask." Kathryn looked thoughtful for a moment and then said quickly. "That was very nice of her to get those for you. I'll let you practice." 

She turned away and Alistair saw she had something in her hand, something she was now trying to hide. 

"What's that?" He asked. 

"Nothing." She said moving it behind her. "It is nothing… something for Roland. I forgot he isn't here and I should put it away and give it to him when he gets back." She turned away and walked to her tent and put whatever it was just inside the flap. Then she picked up another package and started towards the back of the camp. 

26.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn picked up the scarf she had bought for Morrigan and headed towards the back of the camp. Morrigan was sitting on the ground staring into the fire. She seemed deep in thought, distracted. Kathryn was nearly upon her before she noticed her. Morrigan looked up suddenly and then stood. 

Few long moments passed as each waited on the other. Kathryn held out the small package. "Here, this is for you." Morrigan looked at it curiously, took it and opened it revealing a beautiful silk scarf, in shades of dark purple and green. 

Morrigan gasped at the sight of it and ran it through her fingers. "I… do not understand…" Morrigan said. "I thought you were angry…" 

"I was… I still am to some degree. Well, disappointed may be a better word." Kathryn said. "We have a difficult task ahead of us. All of us have suffered and will suffer, no doubt much more, before it is over. It does none of us any good to make things more difficult for each other. We must all work together and try to get along as best we can." Morrigan nodded her head. Kathryn smiled and started to walk away. 

"Ah…" Morrigan started. 

Kathryn turned back around. "Yes?" 

"I… purchased tea from the market. 'Tis quite good. I was making some for myself and I think… 'tis enough for two…" Morrigan said. 

Kathryn smiled and sat down as Morrigan prepared the tea. "So life in the wilds, it must have been lonely." Kathryn said. 

26.3 Alistair 

Alistair watched Kathryn walk off. Something wasn't right and she had been completely odd about whatever it was. He watched her give the scarf to Morrigan and then sit down. He went to the tent and discretely reached inside the flap and pulled out what she had put there, what she had in her hand and had tried to hide. 

From what he could tell this was it, a small box. He opened it and saw that it contained a king's game set, complete with a board that folded up and fit inside the box. She had seen him looking at the sets at the Wonders of Thedas, but when she had asked him about it, he had said he didn't play. So why did she buy the set? He thought about the conversation and then it hit him. Tevinter sets! She had asked about the promotion on purpose to see if he knew the different rules and about the different sets and he did. She had gotten it for him and since she was a noble and all nobles played to some degree, it seemed that she had gotten the set to play with him. 

But if that was true, why had she not given it to him? She had it in her hand, she intended to but then changed her mind, but why? Oh… now it was all clear. She had changed her mind about giving it to him after she saw the drawings. After he had told her that Leliana had bought the supplies for him, after he had told her that he had told Leliana, just told her without her having to ask, about the drawings while he had lied to Kathryn about being able to play the king's game, and that fact had upset her. 

He took the set over by the fire and began setting up the board. 

26.4 Kathryn 

After enjoying an excellent cup of tea and having an enjoyable and insightful conversation with Morrigan, Kathryn made her way back to the tents. As she got closer, she saw that Alistair had set up the king's game set, the board and the pieces with himself as black. She would have figured he would favor black as it is seen as the more defensive side with white being the more aggressive side. But she had put that into her tent, she hadn't given it to him. 

"What are you doing?" She asked with more of an edge to her voice than she intended. 

"Setting up the board for us to play. That is why you bought it, right?" He answered. 

"No, I didn't. I didn't buy it for us or you. You don't know anything about it remember." She was trying to keep the bitter, hurt sound out of her voice and failing. 

"Yes, I do know something about the game." He admitted. "I'm sorry I lied to you earlier." 

"You don't have to be sorry, if you don't want to tell me things, then don't. I don't care." She said. 

"Yes, you do." He said realizing that she had no intentions of making this easy. "You are upset that I didn't tell you that I played, especially since I told Leliana about the drawings." 

"I don't care what you tell Leliana." She said much louder than she meant to. She took a breath and then continued. "If you want to tell her things then I am glad for you. I know when I ask you things it is like pulling teeth to get an answer…" She said dismissively. She was angry and she knew she shouldn't be. 

Leliana obviously liked him and besides she was with Roland and she shouldn't be this upset that he had told Leliana something and lied to her. It was good that he could talk to Leliana. He needed to be able to talk to someone. He should be with someone. They were both good people and deserved to be happy. She wasn't jealous, of course not, but she had thought that with everything, at least they could talk, that they were getting closer and now she was disappointed and hurt… she shouldn't be but she was. 

Really, why had it mattered that Leliana had bought him something? Kathryn had bought things for everyone, including Leliana. It was just when she saw the drawings and found out that he had just told Leliana about them, she felt embarrassed and foolish. She… was completely over-reacting. He must… feel closer to Leliana, and so… wanted to tell her things. He… must… like her… and that was fine. It was a good thing and she was happy for them… she was. 

26.5 Alistair 

"I didn't mean to upset you." Alistair said knowing that was fairly lame. 

"You didn't. It's fine. No harm done." She said calming. 

But he could tell that there was. He knew he needed to explain why he had done what he had for her to get over it, but how could he tell her that he doesn't tell her things, because when she talks to him, he can barely breathe and he feels like his head will explode, that he can't even think about anything but her and that she's talking to him and how much he wished… that she felt the tiniest bit of what he felt for her … no, he couldn't tell her any of that. 

"I didn't want to talk about it then. The Arl taught me, and just with him being so… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied to you." He said. "Come on, it's your move." Indicating the set up board. 

"I don't play." She said. 

"Don't be like that, of course you do." He said getting frustrated. She seemed determined to be difficult. 

"I don't want to play then." She said. "I never liked the game anyway." She lied. "I actually bought it for you and Leliana to play." Kathryn looked down to the ground. "She's a better partner for you anyway." Kathryn's voice trailed off as she said it. 

"Do you really think so?" Alistair said swallowing hard. 

"Good night." She said as she turned and retreated into her tent. 

26.5 Kathryn 

'He rushed to her taking her in his arms. 

"No!" She cried. "You cannot!" She struggled to free herself but he was too strong. His arms like metal bands held her fast. He pushed her up against the wall, pinning her and grabbing her head, holding it, kissing her. She wanted to give in, but couldn't. "No!" She turned her head away. He pressed her into the wall, making all struggle useless. 

"Tell me you do not want me!" He demanded. "Say it! Look me in the eye and say that to me and I will never touch you again. I will leave this place and never return! If only you will say that you do not want me… that you do not love me!" 

She wanted to be able to say it, wished that she could tell him that. It would make things easier, simpler and save all of them so much pain. But looking in his eyes she could not lie to him. She no longer had the strength to deny her heart. "I cannot say it for you know that I do… that I do love you. I have always loved you." She admitted. 

He kissed her and this time she did not resist. She felt his hands over her body and wanted more. She felt the bodice on her dress loosen, heard the fabric of her dress rip and tear, felt the cool night air against her now exposed skin. He pulled her legs up and around his waist. She gripped his shoulders as he pressed her against the wall, and then he…' 

The book was gone. Kathryn looked forward but where she had been holding the book before her reading it by the light of the fire, it was gone. She had been so intently reading for a moment she wasn't sure what had happened. Then realizing the book could not have just disappeared, she looked around and saw it. In Alistair's hand. 

"Good job on watch there." He said with a grin. "The archdemon and the entire hoard could have marched through here and taken all of us with them and you wouldn't even have noticed. What are you reading? I doubt the Art of Lockpicking is that enthralling." He turned to look at the page she had been reading. 

"No!" she cried. "Give it back!" She reached out to grab it but he turned facing away from her keeping his body between her and the book. "Give it back!" 

"It must be something good if you want it back so badly." He said, still keeping it from her. 

"I order you to give me my book back!" She said completely exasperated. 

"Order is it!" He said with a laugh. "…and if I say no? Then what? Try me for insubordination? Have a court-marshal? Well, you know you would have to present the book as evidence and everyone will see it." He said. She had no answer to that. "That's what I thought you'd say." Alistair said. 

"Alistair…." She said considering a different, more gentle tactic. 

"Oh look! Roland's back." He said looking over her shoulder. Kathryn eyes got wide. He could be bluffing. "Maybe I should ask him if he would like to read it?" He said. 

"No, Alistair please." She just lost and she knew it. She turned to see that indeed Roland was entering camp. "All right. You win. You keep it. Just don't tell anyone and especially Roland. I won't forget this!" She said in a hushed but harsh whisper. She turned and went to talk to Roland. 

26.6 Alistair 

Alistair laughed and turned the book over and read the title. One Hundred and One Antivan Nights. It wasn't a book on lockpicking, that's for sure. He had lost the page she was reading, so he flipped through the book. It looked like a book of short stories. Then a line caught his eye. 

'…he stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her neck. She leaned forward placing her hands on the table in front of her. Her back arched as he grabbed her hips and plunged his…' 

Alistair started to close the book, then noted the page number. He closed it quickly and put it inside his pack, and went to make breakfast. 

26.7 Leliana 

Leliana emerged from her tent into the bright morning sun. Air was crisp but sunlight was warm against her face. It was a beautiful morning. It was hard to believe that so much was wrong with the world on such a day as this. 

She also knew that part of her good mood was that she had given Alistair the charcoals and paper she had bought for him. They hadn't been cheap even with her bartering skills but from his reaction to them, well worth the investment. 

Speaking of which, Alistair was walking towards her with a grin on his face and his hands suspiciously behind his back. She smiled her best smile and in her softest bedroom voice said. "Hello." 

"Hello." He said. "I… you wanted a picture when I had time to practice." He presented her with a piece of paper. She took it and looked at it. It was obviously a drawing of her and a good one but not as she was now. 

The picture was of her singing, dressed in a beautiful evening gown complete with jewels. Her hair was long, and pulled up, with curls and ribbons framing her face. She looked at it, at this vision of her, at a glimpse of a life and a person she barely remembered and felt her eyes tear up. She looked to him. 

"That's how I picture you from before… when you were a bard in Orlais, with all the fancy Orlesian nobles watching you sing." He said. 

"It's lovely!" She was finally able to say. "And very good." 

"I'm glad you like it." He said with the sheepish boyish grin that was so attractive. He turned and then turned back. "Do you play the king's game?" He asked. 

"Yes, I do, quite well, if I may say so. Being a bard and mixing with nobility it is a must to be able to play." She said. 

"Oh, I… have a set and maybe… some night…" he said. 

"I'd like that." She answered. He smiled and went back to packing up. Yes, she thought, looking at the picture and then back at Alistair. This would be a wonderful day. 

Chapter 27: Seventh Camp 

27.1 Alistair 

Alistair and Leliana were out by the small pond at the end of camp. They had spent most of the evening playing the king's game, laughing and talking and enjoying each other's company. She had won two out of the three games. He was out of practice but it had been fun. 

"You play the game like a noble plays it with war strategy, as practice for combat." Leliana explained. "I know nothing of that but know how to play the game well or maybe a better way to put it is how to manipulate it. That is key, to control the game without seeming to control it so that you can win when you want and lose when you want, make the game last or over quickly. Some want to win at all costs and some are only impressed if they lose. Depends on the person, and what you want to accomplish in the game." 

"So, you let me win." Alistair said with a smile. 

"Why would I?" Leliana said simply. "No reason to. I'm not trying to trick or distract you, and besides you're good enough there is no need." 

"Oh…" Alistair said and then stopped. "Wait… you wouldn't tell me if you did let me win, would you?" Leliana laughed a coy laugh and continued walking. It was hard to reconcile the innocent looking Chantry sister she was now with her past as a bard and… it seemed… assassin. 

She stepped closer to him. He could smell a scent, sweet but like a flower. She was close enough to touch… she leaned in even closer, tilting her head up and to the side, bringing her face right up to his and then she closed her eyes. 

She was going to kiss him. He was thrilled that anyone even wanted to, much less that she did. He had, of course, never kissed or been kissed by anyone. He had seen others do that and knew you pressed your lips to theirs and moved around a bit. While it didn't sound all that pleasurable, he figured there was more to it than just that. Apparently there was a lot more to sex than he had thought, so no doubt this was much the same. He was nervous, sure, but ready… he hoped. 

The thing was he wasn't sure exactly what to do, so he just stood there and waited. She reached up and gently took his bottom lip in hers, and slowly, tenderly pressed her lips together. 

Wow! That's a lot more enjoyable than it had sounded, that's for sure! He thought and it didn't seem that difficult. As she started to release and pull back, he tilted his head to the other side and mimicking her actions, taking her top lip in his. 

Yes, it was definitely more fun when he helped. He felt her body react to the kiss. She moved even closer to him, turning her head slightly, as he let go, and kissed him again. She rested her hands on his chest. He tentatively put his around her waist. As they went back and forth, it got more intense and picked up speed. She sighed or moaned or both but he could tell that she liked it. It felt good, to have her this close to him, to kiss her and hold her. He had no idea it could be like… this. 

She finally turned her face away, needing to catch her breath. She didn't move away from him but turned back to him and smiled. He smiled back, reaching up and touching the side of her face. 

She slightly shivered. "You're cold." He said. "We should get back to the fire. Besides I have second watch." 

"Oh, yes." She said. "You should get some sleep." She reluctantly stepped out of his arms and they walked back to the fire. 

27.2 Leliana and Kathryn 

Leliana sat close to the fire soaking in the warmth. It had been a pleasant evening but the night air was rolling in and with it a damp chill. She couldn't help but smile. The evening had gone extremely well and been one of the more enjoyable ones she'd had. Yes, she had let him win one of the games for she knew it is not fun to always get beaten, even if you expect to. But she had only had to make the one mistake for him to capitalize on it and take the game. Once he got the hang of it again, she may not need to let him win. And speaking of getting the hang of things… 

She had assumed that being raised in the Chantry that he had never kissed anyone before and the way he had initially reacted had, she thought, confirmed that. But he did not kiss like someone who had never kissed anyone before. It was a pleasant surprise, a very pleasant one in fact. He had said that he had been recruited into the Grey Wardens nearly six months before Ostagar and had spent much of that time in Denerim. So there had been ample opportunity for him to… practice. 

He was so very different than what she was used to, the type of person she normally found attractive. But after all she had been through, he might be exactly what she needed and it had felt good. She had been worried that she may never care about anyone again not even be able to in fact but Alistair was hard not to like. 

Everything had gone very well but she knew not to push it, to give such things time and space and let them develop naturally. 

Kathryn came over and sat down next to her. "You look happy tonight. Did the king's games go well?" She asked sounding casual about it. 

"Oh, yes and things went even better afterwards." Leliana said with a smile and in confidence. 

"Afterwards?" Kathryn looked at her curiously. 

"We kissed by the pond." Leliana said low. 

"What? Oh… that's… great." Kathryn said. 

"Yes, it was." Leliana said with a note of surprise. "I thought he might not have any experience in such things being raised in the Chantry but that does not seem to be the case." She said happily. 

"Really? That's good." Kathryn looked at the fire "You like him." 

"Yes, I do." Leliana said. "Very much, in fact. He is different from what I am used to, but it's nice." 

"Good." Kathryn said. "You both deserve that, just…" She seemed to lose her train of thought and stared into the fire. 

Several moments went by each woman occupied with their own thoughts. Leliana looked away from the fire and into the night sky. "The stars are out." She pointed to a part of the sky. "There is a story about that cluster of stars over there. Do you know it? Alindra and her soldier?" 

Kathryn looked to the stars. "Is that the one where the solider falls in love with her singing and is killed in the wars, and she becomes a star?" 

"Yes, it is one of my favorite stories, a tale of a love so great and so enduring that it defies death, and moves the gods to action." She said. "I ask myself, does such a love exist? Can it exist?" 

"I would like to think that a love could be so powerful." Kathryn said thoughtfully, thinking of a different couple than Alindra and her soldier. 

"I think I would be lucky to experience an emotion even half as pure and true as Alindra's love." Leliana said. 

"Oh, I don't know about that." Kathryn said. 

"Do you not believe in a pure, true love?" Leliana asked. 

"Perhaps but I know that isn't one of them. It isn't even all that great or enduring, really." Kathryn said. Leliana looked at her curiously. Kathryn saw her expression and explained. "Love at first sight sounds good and very romantic and all but whatever it is, it isn't love. It may be infatuation, or lust, or mutual attraction, or many other things but not love. It is the stuff of tales and stories, but love that is real doesn't happen like that." 

"And would you want it to? Would you really want a love based on nothing more than one look at someone or them taking only one look at you? What do Alindra and her soldier know of each other, that she had a lovely voice and he… likes singing?" Kathryn asked. "For my part, I'd much rather have someone know me, who I am as a person and love me for that, for my faults and my virtues, the quirks that make me… me. And not what can be determined in one look at a person." 

"If Alindra and her solider are in love, it is with a fantasy of each other, and it will last forever because they are kept apart. It can endure, but only by their separation, that way they remain perfect in the other's mind. Probably if they spent any time together, they would not like each other at all." Kathryn said. "They do have to endure conflict or misfortune or disagreements or hardship or jealousy or misunderstandings or any of the many things that try a relationship." 

"Besides, to love someone so much that you do not want to live without them, is that a good thing? It is nice to dream of and tell stories about but would you really want that?" Kathryn asked. She looked into the fire and then continued. "Such strong emotions, they have a price, a high and sometimes terrible price attached to them. You have to wonder if such feelings are worth it." 

"True," Leliana mused. "…but to be with someone you truly love, to the exclusion of all others… there is nothing in the world like it." Leliana said sadly. A memory stirred in her, a painful one to be sure but a good one too and she smiled. 

Kathryn looked into the fire for several moments not seeing it at all but looking back on memories she had up till now blocked out. "I can see how it could be…might be…" She said as she recalled the vision of her parents, the last look she had of them together in the castle larder. "And I guess if we lose hope in love, in its potential and worth, then we become truly lost." She said almost sadly. "For without that, at least the possibility of that, none of this would be worth fighting or dying for." 

"I never expected you to say that. It is… a pleasant surprise." Leliana said pleased. 

"Why a surprise?" Kathryn asked. 

"There is a certain… severity to you. Maybe you should let your softer side show more often. Sometimes following your heart, not your head, leads you to remarkable places." Leliana said. 

"Like yours did?" Kathryn asked. 

"Perhaps…" Leliana said with a coy smile. "I must say it is not a place I expected but it is a good place." She looked up to the sky and then yawned. "Well, good night." She said. 

"Good night." Kathryn said. Leliana got up and disappeared into her tent. Kathryn looked into the fire and then back to the night sky and the cluster of stars which made up the river of Alindra's tears. 

She had always followed her head, in everything even in regards to love. She listened to her heart, of course, took its needs and wants under consideration, but her head always made the decisions. It wasn't that she didn't have strong emotions or feel things deeply, in fact, it was because she did. She knew and understood her own capacity to feel and to love, and as a person who can't stand strong liquor will not to drink, she refused to be ruled by those emotions. She knew nothing good ever came of it. She had also seen the price such feelings exact, for she understood as few did, how the experience of love and happiness expands your risk for sorrow and grief. The question now was did she want that? Did she believe it was worth it? 

You can want something too much, feel too strongly, and allow it to destroy you. It wasn't fear, for she wasn't afraid of much of anything, but certainty. She could not afford to be overcome or carried away by emotions, either good or bad, that she wasn't able to control, not now and maybe not ever. So, she had drawn a line, only this far and no farther, for beyond that… she didn't know and couldn't risk. 

But looking into that unknown from her vantage point of relative safety, into that abyss of emotion, there was a longing she had never felt before. She wanted to delve into it, to let go and feel all she was capable of, to see what was out there for her, waiting just beyond her reach, just out of her sight, but that still called to her. 

No, she must be honest at least with herself, she knew exactly what was out there for her and she also knew with the utmost surety that she lacked the strength to bear it. 

27.3 Alistair 

"I have desired you since the moment I saw you." She said as she walked towards him. "Each time I have lain with another, felt their touch or kiss, I imagined it was you. I have longed to be with you, lay with and beside you, feel your arms around me. I cannot stand for us to be apart any longer." 

She unlaced the bodice on her dress and let it fall to the floor as she continued to walk toward him. She slipped her dress off her shoulder, then off the other and it too fell to the floor. He was overcome by the vision of her naked body in the moonlight, stunned by all he had heard. She walked up to him, so close he could hear her breathing and smell her perfume. She reached up to his chest, her fingers traced over the lines of his body. For so long, he had denied himself even the hope that this could be, and now that with his greatest desire before him, he found it nearly impossible to believe it and to act upon it. At any moment he thought he would wake to find it all a dream and he wished it to go on as long as possible. 

Her fingers glided down past his stomach to the laces on his breeches. He took her hand and held it, as her eyes came up to his. "Are you sure this is what you want?" He asked breathlessly. 

She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it. "Come." She whispered as she touched the side of his face, and then pulled him towards the bed. "There is no need to wait anymore. Nothing will ever keep us apart again." 

He could stand it no longer. He reached out to touch her, hold her, feel her skin against his. Kissing her as a man dying of thirst drinks water. His hands ran over her naked skin, feeling the curves of her body, hearing her moan at his touch. 

He picked her up, carrying her in his arms to the bed, laying her upon it. As she reached for him, pulling him to her, as he crawled on top of…" 

The book was gone. Before him was the much less interesting view of the camp. He looked up to see Kathryn holding the book. "Hey! I was reading that… give it back!" He said. 

"It's my book! You took it from me, remember." Kathryn said. 

"Oh, that's right." He said. "Well, just let me finish the story… he was just about to… give it back!" He pleaded. 

"What do you need it for?" Kathryn asked him. "From what I heard getting plenty of romantic action with Leliana." She said with more of an accusatory edge than she wanted. 

"Well, if that's the case what do you need it for?" He replied. "You and Roland have been making kissy faces for weeks now. Unless, of course, you want it for research?" He said suggestively. 

"Is that what you want it for?" Kathryn asked. 

"That's none of your business." He said with mock offence. 

"…and none of yours." She said cuttingly. 

"Fair enough… Wait… she told you that we… Did she say anything else?" He said realizing the implications of what she had said. "I mean, not that I'm worried or anything, but if something bad you'd tell me right? I'd want to know… I think I would anyway." He said unsure. 

"She didn't say anything else." Kathryn said. 

"You would tell me right?" Alistair asked. 

"Yes, of course." Kathryn said. "I'm happy for both of you." 

"Are you?" Alistair asked, not convinced at all for some reason. 

"Yes, why wouldn't I be? You are both good people and I want you… you both to be happy." She said somewhat flatly. 

"So, now will you give me the book back? Just let me finish the story." He pleaded. 

"No, I'm not giving you the book back." She said. 

"Oh, come on… I'll play you for it." He said hopeful. 

"Yes, I heard you're good at that too." Kathryn said. 

"Well, she did let me win one game." He said and then stopped. "…wait what do you mean 'at that too'? I was good at something else? You lied! She did say something. Now, you have to tell me." 

"She just said you were good at chess and…" Kathryn said regretting saying anything now. 

"And?" He said encouragingly. 

"That she wasn't entirely disappointed with the other part…" Kathryn said in a rush. 

"Which other part?" Alistair asked. 

"What? There was more than one?" Kathryn asked. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know.” 

"No, but I just want to make sure we're talking about the same thing." He said. 

"You know, now that I'm thinking about it, I'm sure she was talking about your cooking." Kathryn said. 

"All right, I know your lying now." He looked at her and then suddenly he snatched the book back. 

"What?!" She said as she tried to take it back. 

"Tell me what she said." He demanded. 

Exasperated, Kathryn started. "She said that you didn't… that…" 

"Yes…" He said waiting. 

"Just keep the book then." She said and walked off.


	2. Part II: Chapters 28 through 47

Chapter 28: Eighth Camp 

28.1 Zevran 

Zevran thought over the events of the last days and it seemed safe to say that in general things were not going well. 

Just outside Denerim a group of assassins had attacked them. Apparently he hadn't needed to try so hard to fail for this group wanted to kill them and had no better success than he had. They'd been sent to kill Leliana. He was still a bit unclear at exactly the reasons but it seemed they had been sent by the bard master who had betrayed Leliana in Orlais. 

In addition, they had not found the Brother at the inn where he was supposed to be staying and even worse they had been attacked by several heavily armed men who had meant them a great deal of harm. The group had failed to kill them, yes but they had no idea who they were or why they had attacked them. The seemed to be little end to the people who wanted to kill them. It occurred to him he might actually be safer with the Crows. 

They had been able to disrupt Loghain's soldiers and help defend a bann's lands but they had also discovered that a group of men from Lothering had been wiped out by darkspawn. Reading in one's journal how they had been hunted down by the darkspawn, had chilled even him. Morrigan had gotten her hands on a book and seemed delighted, but she was the only one. The rest were all quiet and seemingly depressed. 

Zevran knew death was always around, but you can't dwell on it or it finds you faster, as it is said. But he had more experience with such than the rest. He had also learned to take pleasures where he could, as there were little enough to be had in this world. Everyone was so somber. He was trying to think of something to liven everyone's mood. 

As he looked over the group sitting quietly around the fire, it seemed the most charming Leliana had caught the handsome blond warden Alistair. However, Zevran could tell that Alistair still liked the beautiful dark haired Kathryn who was with the stalwart red haired knight Roland. Hmmm… it sounded like a set up for an Antivan romance. Anyway, it might be fun, at least entertaining for him, to stir things up a bit and he had just the thing. 

"My dear Leliana, I was thinking, which in most cases is not a good sign I will admit, but it appears all of us could use some pleasurable activity to take our minds off recent events, not to mention the Blight." Zevran said. 

"What do you have in mind?" Leliana asked, curious for indeed they all needed just that. Although she was a bit worried at exactly the sort of diversion Zevran could come up with. 

"That we teach these Fereldens to dance! You have no doubt learned the waltz, yes? I hear it has spread to Orlais, and is quite the rage." Zevran said. 

"Why, yes. Oh! That's a wonderful idea." Leliana said excited. "It was all the fashion when I left Orlais. Very scandalous and so of course I had to learn it." 

"As it began in Antiva, it is still the rage there, and nearly everyone knows it. But I doubt they have even heard of such here." Zevran said. 

"Do we have enough partners?" Leliana said, now considering the more practical aspects of the endeavor. 

"I doubt the witch will want to join, well, she may want to but I doubt she will." Zevran surmised. "The Sten will also not want to partake. That leaves you and me, Kathryn, Wynne, Alistair and Roland. Three couples. Perfect." Zevran said. 

"But if I'm dancing and teaching, I can't play and we must have music." Leliana said. 

"For practice we only need a steady beat. I am sure the Sten could be persuaded to with the right enticement." Zevran said. 

"Leave that to me." Leliana said and went over to where Sten was standing. 

"We need you to keep a beat for us while we teach the others to dance. Will you please?" Leliana asked sweetly. 

"No." Sten said. 

"But why?" Leliana asked. 

"Dancing is frivolous. Movement without purpose." Sten said. 

"But it is fun and we all could use a break. Besides it is good training." Leliana said. 

"Training?" Sten said. 

"There is an Orlesian saying 'Never give a sword to a man who can't dance.' Besides if you do, I won't tell the others what you were doing with the kitten." Leliana said. 

"I was helping it train." Sten said. 

"…or that you were picking flowers…" 

"They were medicinal." Sten explained. 

"…or that you are a big soft…" 

"Fine." Sten said. 

"Here just take this and when we say, hit it with this, like this… one… two … three. Okay?" 

Sten grunted. 

Leliana and Zevran gathered the rest and explained their plan. Everyone was interested and excited. Most had at least a passing knowledge of dancing but the more traditional Ferelden group type dancing. Pairs dancing was new to them. They took them through the basic steps and variations and special moves. After everyone had a grasp of them, they broke into pairs to practice. Leliana and Alistair, Kathryn and Roland, Wynne and Zevran. 

28.2 Zevran 

Wynne and Zevran were doing well, even with having to make the slight adjustments necessary when one of the partners is an elf. Wynne was agile and light on her feet especially considering her age and Zevran was, of course, an excellent dancer. 

Zevran surveyed the results of his idea and was well pleased. All were laughing and enjoying themselves. Sten even seemed to be watching with interest and doing an excellent job of keeping up the beat. Wynne despite her frustration was at least not as sad as before and he himself was thoroughly entertained. 

He could see that while Alistair and Leliana were doing well technically speaking, for Leliana was a professional and Alistair able to match her step for step, Kathryn and Roland were not. There was not the grace or fluidity of movement you would expect from two people supposedly in love. And more importantly there was trouble to stir up and his own curiosity to sate. There was an old Antivan adage that for each horse there is only one rider. He had found that to be true of people as well. 

Although, in this case, he had to wonder which one was the horse and which was the rider… but that would depend on strength and relative flexibility, height difference and endurance… Zevran considered as his mind wandered to topics that had little to do with horses… or dancing. 

28.3 Alistair 

Zevran went to Leliana. "My dear, upon watching the other couple, I think improvement could be made if you would take Roland as a partner and teach him directly for a time. As Alistair will no doubt attest to, it is much easier to learn that way." 

Leliana looked over and watched a few of their steps. "Ah, yes, I see what you mean." They walked over and she explained the plan. 

Leliana and Roland danced away leaving Alistair and Kathryn standing there watching them. Alistair desperately tried to think of some way to ask her to dance without sounding like he wanted to, at least not sounding like he wanted to as badly as he did. 

"Well, we might as well practice while he's learning." Kathryn said off hand. 

"Yes, might as well." He responded a little too quickly. They got into position, sort of. Kathryn seemed determined to keep him at a more than respectable distance. Their hands touching but not clasped, his fingers barely contacting her waist, her hand just touching his chest. They began and immediately there was a problem. Alistair stopped and stepped away from her. 

"You're trying to lead." He said to her. 

"I'm the leader. I do that." She said defiantly. 

"Not in dancing." He said. 

"Why? Because I'm the girl and girls have to be led around a dance hall?" She said. 

"Because you're the girl and girls are better dancers… well, women… are in general, and you're also a rogue. You know it is much harder to follow than lead in dancing and combat too actually." He explained, then he looked at her curiously. "You don't trust me, do you?" 

"It isn't about that." She said. 

"Isn't it?" He asked. "And you didn't answer me. Look… you trust me in battle, don't you? In fact, I know you do. Just… follow my lead, like always." 

Kathryn tried to take a breath. She forced the breath out slowly and then looked to him. "All right, you lead." 

Alistair smiled and took her hand and this time held it in his. He stepped closer to her, much closer, resting his hand fully on her waist. She put her hand on his chest, tentatively at first and then slightly gripping his shoulder. 

"On three…" He said. "One… two… three." 

28.4 Zevran 

Zevran watched as Alistair and Kathryn started to dance and saw it was a disaster. Awkward and stiff, they didn't even make it three steps when they stopped. Zevran was surprised. Usually he wasn't that wrong about people and he had seen them fight together. He would have thought their dancing would be more like… well… like that! 

They had started again and that had been what he expected to see all along. The moves graceful and elegant, with perfect timing and balance. As he watched he could see how they began to incorporate the harder steps into their dance and how with each turn and spin they got closer together. He saw that her steps now took place in between his, to be that close with so little practice they should be constantly stepping on the other's foot but they weren't. Even now their faces where nearly touching as their laughter rang through the camp. It occurred to him that he had never heard Kathryn laugh before. 

Again his mind wandered to the topic of horses and riders and to the even more pleasant one of positions and lovemaking. It was really a shame they were not together for if the dancing was an indication, which it always was, their lovemaking would be incredible. 

He wondered if anyone else had noticed them and looked to see that the other halves of the couples had stopped their practicing and were now watching Alistair and Kathryn but with less enjoyment than he, in fact they looked somewhat concerned, and Zevran thought they had reason to be. Roland looked like he was about to cut in. Zevran decide to do both of the wardens a favor and walked up to him whispering in confidence. 

"Ah, I have been longing to dance with the beautiful bard. Do me a favor and take the hand of Wynne. She was resting but has no doubt recovered and I would feel horrible if she was left without a partner. She is a most excellent dancer and could use the mild exertion." 

Roland looked to him and then back up to the dancers and then reluctantly to Wynne. "Of course." 

"Thank you, my good ser." Zevran said. Roland then turned and walked over to where Wynne was standing and watching. 

Zevran stepped to Leliana who was watching Alistair and Kathryn intently and before she could object, he took her hand and they began. 

He had to admit that this was turning into a most enjoyable and entertaining evening. 

28.5 Roland 

Roland walked over to where Wynne was standing. 

"I see Zevran has left you without a partner." He said. 

"More that I have sustained my fill of him for one evening." Wynne said in frustration. 

"Then allow me to offers my services." He said with a pronounced bow. 

Wynne smiled. "I would be honored." She said. Roland took her hand and after a few missteps and much laughing they began. 

"I must say Zevran was right about one thing, you are an excellent dancer. I take it this is not your first dance." Roland said. 

"You could say that. At the tower for holidays and festivals there are dances. Not like this of course but group type circle dances. They can get quite intricate and fun. At times the dancing goes nearly till dawn." Wynne said with a smile at fond memories. 

After a few moments, she shook herself out of her reverie. "How is your father? He seemed well but I did notice the limp." 

"Yes," Roland answered. "He has aged much and I believe more due to darkspawn than years. Hunter's Fell was overrun by darkspawn but the household was saved by a band of mercenaries and scavengers. They all made it safely to Denerim." Roland said concerned but relieved. "Much better than I had dared to hope." 

"If I may ask, do you have any other family?" Wynne inquired. 

"My mother died when I was young, I barely remember her. I do not know what happened, however. I was too young and Father has never mentioned her. He took her death hard and if her name ever came up he changed the subject or left the room. So I never asked." Roland looked thoughtful for a moment, then continued. 

"He never remarried. I know he was quite close to the housekeeper he hired after Mother died, but do not know the extent of their relationship. I hope they provide friendship and comfort at the very least for each other. Life is hard enough and harder when you are alone." Roland said. 

"You and Kathryn have become close." Wynne said gently. 

Roland smiled. "Yes, we have. We had fancied ourselves in love when we were younger, still children really. I guess having basically grown up together it was nearly inevitable. The Teyrn he put a stop to it but I never stopped caring for her and now…" He stopped and turned his head towards the sound of Kathryn's laugher. 

He was not a jealous man. She was the leader and under a great amount of stress, the fate of the entire world rested on her shoulders. It was more than he could even imagine and then to have that on top of losing her entire family. He should not, and in truth didn't, begrudge her any happiness or pleasure she could find or any relief from the terrible burden that she had been chosen to bear. 

But at each turn and spin her and Alistair made, he felt the discomfort and even anxiety build. He didn't like it. He didn't like how they were dancing, how well they were dancing, how close they were dancing. She was not behaving in the way she should. 

He approved of this new type of pairs dancing and saw nothing at all wrong with it and he himself was enjoying it quite a bit, but she should act properly and show respect not only for him but their relationship and bond. They were together but watching her dancing with Alistair, you could not prove it by her actions. 

He was in all likelihood overreacting, and he knew that if he said anything she would blow him off and that it was just dancing and fun and to not make more of it than it was and not ruin it by being jealous. 

She would also no doubt bring up that she and Alistair fought together and that this was good practice. Of course, if he was honest, that was another thing he didn't like about their situation. They fought together and not even side by side but as a team, as partners. She never stepped out of camp without him. She always discussed plans and such with Alistair, for it seemed his opinion was the one she valued the most. Granted he was a Grey Warden and had been one longer than her but not much longer and he was young, even younger than she, barely able to be considered an adult. Not to mention the fact that he was a commoner, child of a servant and worse than that, a bastard. 

Then there had been their dancing his and hers, while it had been great fun, she had wanted to lead and would not allow him to lead as is proper. But he could easily see that she was allowing Alistair to lead, spin and twirl her around like a top and they were laughing, in a way he had not heard her since they were children. He knew she needed to laugh but each time she did it felt like a sharp blow to his chest. 

28.6 Alistair 

Alistair had never heard Kathryn laugh like this. She could hardly catch her breath. The dancing now was nearly effortless. They had started incorporating the spins and twirls into the dance and doing so with hardly a misstep. Her face was now close enough to his that he could easily lean forward, tilt his head to the side and… kiss her. 

"Next set, six spins and then a twirl out and another. Ready?" He said. 

"No! It's too many, I'll trip and fall. I know I will. I'm already dizzy." She said laughing. 

"Then close your eyes. I won't let you fall. Ready… go!" He looked to see that indeed her eyes were closed. She was putting herself completely in his hands. He called out the steps. "SPIN, spin, spin, SPIN, spin, spin, twirl out right… and back and twirl out left… and back." He should step back as she came towards him and then lead her into the next step but he didn't. He stopped and let her bump into him. She immediately stopped, still pressed up against him she opened her eyes and looked up at him. 

"You stopped dancing." She said out of breath. 

"I… spun you around pretty good there. I was just so surprised that you didn't fall." He said. 

"You said you wouldn't let me." She said. 

"And I won't… ever." He said softly. 

She looked down catching her breath and then seemed to suddenly notice she was pressed against him and stepped back. "We probably need a break." She said and then she smiled. "Thank you for the dance, my lord." And did her best noble curtsey. 

"The pleasure was mine, my lady." He said and responded with a bow. And then just to complete the farce and because he knew this might be his only opportunity. He took her hand and raised it to his lips and kissed it. He released her hand and they walked back to where the others were waiting. 

28.7 Sten 

Sten stood in the middle of the camp, watching. At all times there were two people on watch of different classes. Right now it was him and the witch. She was in the back of the camp reading her book. He would be upset and worried that she was not paying attention but he knew that her ears were nearly as sharp as the dog's. He could not step on a twig that she didn't look up and if a mouse approached the camp she seemed to sense it. So he concentrated on watching. But the night was still and quiet. 

He thought about the evenings activities. It had been entertaining to watch the others move about in such a foolish fashion. The steps had not seemed that difficult and out of curiosity he wondered how hard they were to learn. It would be useful to know, for then he could judge the relative agility of the members of the group. He had watched them closely and went over the steps in his mind and then walked through them. He turned several times and then stopped to see Leliana standing only a few feet from him giggling. 

"Stop that." He said. 

"Stop what?" She said innocently. 

"That. Looking at me and giggling." He said. 

"I can't help it! You are so big and stoic! Who would have thought you'd be a big softie?" She said still giggling. 

"Stop saying that. I am a soldier of the Beresaad. I am not a "softie." 

"Softie." She said. 

"...I hate humans." Sten said and retreated into his tent. 

Chapter 29: Denerim Part IV 

29.1 Alistair 

Arriving in Denerim, they found it little changed from the last time they were there. They went to Brother Genitivi's house and confronted Weylon who after learning they had been to the inn, immediately attacked them shouting "For Andraste!" whatever that meant. 

The door in the back was locked. Kathryn spent a few minutes getting it open breaking several lockpicks in the process. She had gotten very good at picking locks and disarming traps, surpassing even Leliana's considerable although somewhat atrophied skill. The problem was not in her construction of the lockpicks but that she didn't have the equipment to make them out of the harder metals and had to use the softer more pliable ones, which tended to break more easily. 

In the back, they found the body of the real Weylon along with some of Genitivi's research which gave them the name and location of a village he was planning on investigating. Given what they had already encountered, they just hoped to find him still in one piece. 

They returned to the market and met up with Leliana, who had found the address the assassin had given them. They confronted Majolaine, at the end of it, she laid dead on the floor. He could tell Leliana was upset, very upset. Even with Majolaine's betrayal, she had been someone Leliana had cared about, someone he could see that she had loved and perhaps in some way still did. He had taken her hand afterwards and she had gripped it hard and nodded that she was all right but he didn't believe her. She said that she would meet up with them later at the tavern. They respectfully left her alone. 

Upon returning to the market district, and doing some necessary shopping, Zevran spotted a poster, which seemed to indicate that supporters of the Grey Wardens were meeting at The Pearl. He volunteered to go, Alistair figured he just wanted an excuse to visit the place again. As they started to leave the market area a small boy hailed her and handed her a note. It asked her to attend a meeting at the tavern. She put it away without comment. 

They went to the Pearl, hoping to find friends, support and aid but instead found that it was a trap set by Howe. Paedan who was in charge gave them a chance to surrender. There were four of them although they were all warriors in massive armor and heavy weapons. Normally set with those kind of odds, Kathryn would be willing to talk her way out of the situation, be diplomatic and reasonable. She was normally level headed, not reacting with emotion especially out of anger or rage, but not this time. He had never seen Kathryn so angry. She attacked them without warning, daggers flying. 

Blast it! He had thought. She knew better than that. She was completely outmatched, and about to get herself killed. To get in the middle of so many heavily armed and armored fighters, to draw that much attention to herself, was not her strength, not what she did well. In fact, it put her at a distinct, if not fatal, disadvantage. She got in several key blows and gave Paedan a mortal but not crippling wound. But even with her ability to dodge, she couldn't avoid them all, and with her light armor just one well-placed blow could be deadly. Before he could react, she was hit hard by a greatsword. Her armor prevented the blow from cutting her in two but the force of it still drove her to the ground. He knew that another blow like that would be more than she could take. 

He immediately rammed the closest one to him and reached her, putting his shield and body in front of her, letting two more heavy blows hit him. He took advantage of the fact that wielders of two-handed weapons take a bit to reset and bashed the nearest to the ground and then turned and attacked the third. He looked back at her. She was still on the ground. He couldn't protect both of them, not against four massively armed and armored warriors, well not do that and fight too. Paedan was failing, true, but not fast enough. 

"Kathryn, get back!" He said, realizing he had said that more like an order than a request. 

"I'm fin…" she started, but then she tried to get up and the pain shot through her, broken ribs, at least, probably worse, much worse. The subject was no longer up for debate. 

"Zev… get her out of here! Roland!" He yelled. 

"I'm right with you." Roland said as he struck the last one driving him back and then attacked the one on the floor. Zevran slipped through the fight unnoticed. He grabbed Kathryn and pulled her out of the room. 

"Go!" she said as they got out of the room. "Help them!" She pulled out a potion, swallowed it in one drink, took out her bow and despite the pain started firing into the fight. 

It was over quickly. He stood over the body of Paedan, watching the life bleed out of him. He turned to see Kathryn standing next to him. He wasn't sure what to say, if anything. He had ordered her out of the fight. Worse, told someone else to take her out of the fight, but he also knew it had been the right thing to do. 

He understood why she had attacked as she had, understood the feeling and impulse. But now he knew that as reasonable as she was, she was capable of acting in anger, blindly and without thought. And if she could, he couldn't. He was used to discipline, she more to reason, but if that reason could fail her, his discipline couldn't and knowing that, he was determined that it wouldn't. 

She might still be upset with him for usurping her authority and taking command. He looked to her and could see that she was angry but not with him, not in the least. The slight movement at the corner of her mouth and the soft expression in her eyes said sorry and thanks and that she also knew he had done the right thing and was glad of it. He gave her a slight smile and they both turned to look at the bodies. 

With the fight over, in the settling calm, he could feel the rage continuing to build into a fury. Kathryn found a note and handed it to him, he read it. He already hated Howe for what he had done to Kathryn, what he had done to her family but now… to know there were people out there wanting to help them, who despite everything they had been told, who believed in them, who had hope and faith, and who had come here looking to aid them, and that they had been betrayed by that loyalty and trust and their desire to aid them was almost too much to comprehend. 

He looked to Kathryn and could see the same in her eyes, the anger and the grief for people they had never meet and never would but were friends. Good people who had died for their willingness to help them. It all just wasn't fair. 

He handed the note back to her. He wanted to say all of that but couldn't find the words. 'I know' her eyes said to him and he could feel that she felt the same. He looked around, kicking at the furniture, wanting to expend the anger but knowing it wouldn't help. There is always more. He looked to Paedan and then back to her. 

'He got off too easy.' She said with her eyes. He could see her disgust. 

'Yes, he did.' His eyes said with regret. He wished he had lived so he could kill him as he deserved and he deserved worse than this, much worse. 

She held up the note. 'Howe dies.' Her expression said. He understood that she wanted to be the one to do it but if she couldn't… she wanted a promise from him, that he would not only for what he had done to her family but for all of those he had harmed. His look told her in no uncertain terms that if she didn't kill him, he would. 

With the promise, understood if unspoken, her anger seemed to fade, to recede a bit. She put the note away and shrugged, they might as well look around. He nodded. They found donations, many thankfully had been made anonymously, money and supplies. They took all of it and left. 

29.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn settled into the comfortable booth at the Gnawed Noble Tavern with her red wine. Everyone was resting and enjoying the moment of quiet and companionship, there were far too few of these, she thought. 

Kathryn looked up to see that a stout man had walked up to her. She was surprised that such a man could do that, get that close without her noticing. Perhaps she was tired or enthralled by the conversation or maybe something else. She looked at the man. 

"Hello there, Warden. I'm a friend." The man said low and conversationally. "I've heard you're putting up the good fight against Loghain and Howe, right? Good for you. Maker spit on all those arrogant noble bastards." He said with some venom. "I've also heard you and your mates have certain… skills. 'Skills of the street' you might say. I want to help you." There were curious glances all around the table. 

"How did you know I'm a warden?" Kathryn asked. 

"Your likeness has been shown to some of the guards. Managed to get a peek at it myself." He said. She knew that her likeness had been passed around, she had that from Kylon. Her eyes looked around the table and rested for a moment on Alistair who looked suspicious but curious, which was her own reaction. She indicated that the man take a seat. 

"The name is Slim Couldry, and if you've heard of me, I've been doing a sad job of it, haven't I?" He said. "I hear a great many things. And I figure that you might be interested in getting a few forced contributions to your cause and maybe even a little payback and as long as you view certain pesky laws as mere nuisances, there's some ripe fruit to be plucked out there. I can point the way. All I ask is for a little slice for myself." He said. 

Kathryn considered and then said. "I'm capable of robbing people by myself. Why would I want to give you a cut?" 

"Quite right." Slim said. "But unless you plan on personally robbing every rat-bastard out there – and bully to you if you do – you won't know which fruit is the most ripe and delicious, eh? Bloody fruit metaphors, I know. But opportunity – it should be worth something to you up front." 

Kathryn had to admit he had a point and liked him. As she looked around the group, that and curiosity seemed to be the general consensus. 

"Tell me more." She said. At the very least, she could hear him out. 

"Well, one of my mates noticed your skills and those of your companions but I need to know what else you can do." Slim looked around at the group. "Ever done bump-and-grabs? Do much blending in shadows? Different opportunities for different folk, you know." 

"Well, of stealth I am a master, if I do say so myself." Zevran said. 

"More of a second story man, eh? So was I back in the day. The thrill of the hunt – dodging guards, in and out, no one the wiser. Ahh, the good life." Slim said somewhat wistfully. 

"Actually," Leliana said. "Swiping things is a specialty of mine, especially nobles." 

"A respectable talent for robbing those rich bastards blind." Slim said. 

"Then tell us about it all." Kathryn said. 

"One point – I don't like blood much. Call me old fashioned, but the Maker says thou shalt not strangle, decapitate or what not unless the other fella really had it coming, eh? I realize sometimes you do what you have to. But restraint, right?" Slim said. 

Kathryn suddenly had a thought. "Can you help me get into the Palace District?" Getting into the Grew Warden's compound would be a great benefit, if there was anything still there. 

"No." Slim said simply. "The royal guard would spot you on sight. The Palace District sits atop a tall mesa—steep cliffs. Only one way it, and that's how they like it." Well, she thought it was worth a try. 

"Now, at present I have four jobs that might interest you. Couple marks and couple spots, three should be easy pickings. Two sovereigns for all those. The last is a big opportunity, it'll be four sovereigns but well worth it. What are you interested in?" Slim asked. 

"Tell us about the first three." She said as she put two sovereigns on the table. 

"First, easy-pickings. A lady's maid is in the marketplace. She's wearing bright green – should be easy to spot. She's got a purse with some of her mistress' ill-gotten gems. Just relieve her of her purse and then we both come out ahead." 

Second, better than that one. Ser Nanacine has a fancy and expensive sword. Paid for courtesy of her oppressive taxes on her lands. She's going to be at the Wonders of Thedas soon. This swipe will be tougher—she's got good eyes and stealing a sword from a scabbard isn't easy. If you can blend in shadows, that might help." 

"Third, should be easy money for you. Lady Sophie is an intimate of Arl Howe… real intimate. She's visiting the country. Her room in the Tavern, just down the hall there is unattended. That means her valuables are just there for the taking. You got the tavern staff to worry about, plus she has hired a guard, a very over-worked, tired, and bored guard, though, and there she stands." 

She had to admit those had potential and they needed the money. She decided to risk it. "All right, what's the big opportunity?" She asked as she put four more sovereigns with the first two. "This better be worth it." 

"Arl Howe uses a warehouse in the Market District from time to time. Word is the arl's been dipping into the city's treasury and discreetly moving silver bars to his estate in Highever." Kathryn winched at the mention of Highever. Slim didn't notice but continued. 

"There's a fortune in that warehouse right now. And if you succeed there, Arl Howe gets a big black eye. But guards will be everywhere… not those half-arsed dock guardsmen, either. Generally, I'm opposed to killing – but these are the arl's handpicked hatchet men and stealth's not really an option." He said as he took the coins. 

"Oh, if you need to fence something I can help with that. I sell trinkets, as well. Good luck, I'm rooting for you." He stood and quietly left. 

29.3 Alistair 

Kathryn considered and then stood up. "Who wants another?" There was a chorus of 'me's'. "Another round for the house." She walked up to the bar. 

Alistair stood and mumbled something about getting air and hurriedly stepped outside. He looked up and down the street but there was no sign of Slim. Then his voice came from behind him. "I thought you might want to talk to me." Slim said. "What can I do for you?" 

"You sell trinkets, right? What about lockpicking tools?" Alistair asked. 

"Ah, interested in a set for yourself?" Slim said. 

"Yes… no. I am interested in a set but not for me." Alistair said. 

"Oh, present for your lady friend, huh? I don't sell them but I know someone who does." Slim answered. 

"What does a set, a descent set that won't break, cost?" Alistair asked. 

"A professional grade set, costs quite a bit." Slim said considering. Alistair sighed, he had figured as much. "But I'll make you a deal." Slim said after a moment. "The fella in question owes me a favor, one that didn't cost me anything. You help persuade her to sell the fruits of your labors to me, for a fair cost, of course, and I'll get you a set at cost of materials only, one sovereign, which I'll need now." Slim said. 

"One sovereign…" Alistair pulled out all the coins he had from every pocket and hiding place including the extra silvers he kept in his boot for emergencies and counted them. Ninety-nine silver and one hundred and twenty-six coppers. "I can do that." Alistair said. He counted out the one hundred silver and gave it to Slim. 

"I'll get the goods and be back here later. Good luck." Slim said as he walked off. 

Alistair walked back into the tavern. He saw Kathryn waiting at the bar for the drinks. He started that way to help her with them. Then he saw Roland get up and approach Kathryn. He stepped behind him without being seen and waited at the end of the bar where neither of them would notice him. 

Roland walked up to Kathryn. "I wouldn't say anything in front of the others." Alistair smiled knowing that was a remark against him. Roland continued. "But what are you doing?" 

"Getting drinks." Kathryn said short. 

"You know what I mean… stealing? What we are thieves now?" Roland asked. 

"Not stealing, taking forced contributions to our cause." Kathryn said somewhat wearily. 

"Not funny." He said. 

"Wasn't trying to be." She said. 

"I know our situation is not easy but to resort to thievery…" He said. 

"Well, I could pan handle or stand on the corner and beg, but that takes too much time." She said sharply. 

"I'm serious." Roland said. 

"So am I. Do you have the slightest idea how much it takes to feed everyone?" Kathryn asked him. 

"No." he admitted. "But there must be better ways than this." He said. 

"Like?" She asked. "We have done all the chanter's board jobs, taken jobs from the collective, what else is there? Outside of getting a job at the Pearl, I'm out of ideas." She said. 

"How could you even say you would consider such a thing!" Roland said. 

"I meant you." She said harshly. 

"Kathryn!" Roland said. Alistair had to stop himself from laughing. 

"These are people who can afford to contribute to our cause, and even those who are actively making our lives and mission harder. Need I remind you of the trap at the Pearl? Whatever we can do against Howe and Loghain or anyone who supports them helps us. Even if we simply threw the money in the river, which we aren't." She said. 

"I don't see you going through every dead man's pockets hoping for a few silvers so that we have enough food and supplies to keep fighting. I have to be practical and a good leader and take care of those in my charge and sometimes that entails doing things that would not be acceptable even to me in other situations. There are things more important than honor or justice.” She said. 

"Like what?" Roland said. 

"Surviving! It does us nor anyone else any good to be honorable but dead! We do what is necessary. There are worse things than death, true, but not many. And I am not saying that the ends always justify the means but at times they do. And you would do well to keep in mind your honor might be worth your life, but it isn't worth anyone else's." She said. 

"I can't help you with this." He said. 

"No, you can't and I'm not asking for you to help. In fact, why don't you go see your father. We may not be back in Denerim for a long time." He stood a moment longer but the conversation was over. He stepped back and then turned sharply and left the tavern. 

Kathryn turned back to the bar to see Alistair standing there. "I'm… ah…" he started. 

"…shamelessly eavesdropping?" She said with a small smile. 

"No, no… there is some shame… a little… very little… but some." He admitted. 

She sighed. "So, I guess you object too. You're getting good at disagreeing with me." 

"Only when you're wrong." He said. "Someone has to point it out, and I do enjoy that part of it." 

"I have little doubt." She said. "But I'm not wrong here, so just… don't." 

"Not what I was going to say…" He replied. She looked at him curious. "I'm not very sneaky or have any experience stealing anything. Well maybe honey from the kitchen, but that was a long time ago. But I can make a pretty good ass out of myself nearly on cue which could be useful as a distraction." She smiled. 

"Oh, or I could be a look out! Even hide in a bush or up a tree or something… not that there are any here… trees, I mean or bushes for that matter." He said. 

"How is it you can make me smile no matter how bad things are or how horrible I feel?" She asked. 

"It's a talent." He said warmly. "Besides did you really think I would let you attack a warehouse full of Howe's hatchet men by yourself?" 

"No." She said. "I didn't." 

29.4 Kathryn 

Wynne left and said that she was going to the Wonders of Thedas to pick up a few things and would look over the place and see if Ser Nancine was there. 

The first job was Lady's Sophie's room. Leliana was sitting at a table distracting the waitresses. Alistair at the end of the hall by the bar, across from the guard. The plan was Kathryn would open the door, then stand watch outside it as Zevran entered the room and cleaned it out. 

Kathryn walked down the hall and waited till Alistair nodded indicating that Leliana had the staffs' attention. On cue, she began picking the lock. Once she had the lock, and indicated to Alistair. 

"Go." He said to Zevran who slipped into stealth mode and stole into the room. 

After only a few moments, one of the tavern staff started towards the hallway. Alistair coughed. Kathryn discreetly knocked on the door and was walking out of the hall as the waitress entered. Kathryn asked her the location of the privy. 

The waitress then opened the door with her key and entered the room. After a few moments she emerged, locked the door behind her and left the hall. She commented to the guard that all was good. The guard went back to playing solitaire. A few moments later, Zevran emerged pockets full. 

They regrouped at the table. Kathryn then pulled out the note she had received from the boy and showed it to the others. 

"We have seen our fair share of traps today. Lured to our deaths by a suspicious note to a discreet and private tavern room. Almost a cliché, isn't it?" Alistair said. 

"Which is why I don't think it is a trap. Whoever sent it would have to know we'd be suspicious." Kathryn said. 

"So, depends on if they think we'd be more curious than suspicious. Isn't there something about curiosity and a cat?" Alistair asked. 

"True, but you cannot always judge a book by its cover, my friend." Zevran said. 

"Then again you can have a wolf's in sheepskin." Alistair said with a smile. "It is also good to keep in mind an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." 

"Ah, you see the glass as half empty, do you?" Zevran said also with a smile. 

"Enough! You both are insufferable!" Kathryn said with fake exasperation. "Let's go check it out. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and if it is a trap, well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it." 

"People in glass houses…" Alistair said low to Zevran. 

The group entered the tavern room seeing a couple dangerous looking characters standing around and Ignacio in the back. After confirming his story with Zevran, Kathryn agreed to hear his offer. She could tell Alistair bristled at the very idea but he said nothing. 

When she told Ignacio to hand her the scroll, she could almost hear Alistair's teeth grinding together. She opened the scroll and after seeing the name printed on it, handed it to Alistair. He looked at it and handed it back to her. 

"We already killed Paedan." She said, handing the scroll back to Ignacio. 

"You… what?" Ignacio said. 

"He set a trap for Grey Warden sympathizers and we took care of it." Kathryn said. 

"Your point is not lost on me." Ignacio said. "Perhaps you want to look in the chest behind me." In the chest were two more scrolls and the reward for killing Paedan. She took all of it and said farewell to Ignacio. 

As they left the tavern, she told Zevran and Leliana to find the address for the warehouse. Once they were out of earshot, she turned to Alistair. "You don't like it, I know." She said. 

"No, I don't." He said. "I don't like the idea of killing people for money, no matter how desperate we are. It's… wrong, Kathryn. You know that." 

"Yes, I do." She said. 

"But it's not up to me is it?" He replied sharp. 

She closed her eyes, bowing her head. "Don't be like that." She looked back up to him. "Please." 

He took a deep breath and let it out. "Sorry." 

"And it isn't for the money, you know that." She said. "Although getting paid for people I have already killed doesn't bother me in the least. We are being hunted by professional assassins. Sooner or later, we will have to deal with them. At least this way, hopefully there will be less we have to deal with." 

"If he is telling the truth." Alistair said. 

"Zevran confirmed it." Kathryn said. 

"Yes, let's use the word of one assassin, a crow assassin who has already tried to kill us to verify the word of another crow assassin, who might be trying to kill us." He said. 

"Point taken." She said with a sigh. 

"Those scrolls could be a trap, you know." He said. "He could have found out about Paedan and wrote up the scroll to set us up for the next one, or he may have been in league with Paedan, using the scroll… why are you smiling? This isn't funny." He said clearly annoyed. 

"No, it isn't." She said. "Just that's an excellent point." 

"And…" He said waiting for the funny part. 

"And… I didn't think of it." She admitted. "Look. The alternative is we kill him. Then we really have the Crows after us. If they think we are helping them or at least buying into their trap, it can only benefit us. We don't have to do anything. They know we aren't going to kill just anyone, and given who they may have asked us to kill already, they may even point us in the direction of others that need to be killed." 

"You can't mean that." He said incredulous. "You can't think that there are people who just need killed." 

"Are you telling me you don't?" She asked incredulous. "You're telling me you can't think of at least two people in all Ferelden who should be killed for what they have done and no doubt will do, that you wouldn't kill for free or even pay for the chance to kill?" 

Alistair looked confused for a moment and then gave a slight smile. "Well… when you put it like that. Fine. Point taken." 

"We check them out. If like Paedan, we deal with it, however we choose, and if not we do nothing. If good people, we can at least warn them or something. I know we are walking a fine line here but we don't have much choice." She said. 

"Fine. I should trust you, I know. It's just…" He began. 

"You do trust me." She interrupted. "You just want to make sure I have considered everything, that I'm clear in my thinking and that I know what I'm doing, even if you don't agree." 

"Well, it isn't like rogues have any honor anyway." He said with a smile. 

"No, we don't." She said. "But we have morals. There are lines you can't cross or it will destroy you. But it is easy to lose sight of them, to think the ends always justify the means, easy to rationalize everything that gives you an advantage, instead of constantly having to weigh the costs and benefits, think about the implications and to care about all the ramifications of every decision you make." She said a bit wearily. "But I know that if I ever do start to lose myself in this, I have you. You'll show me what's right, even if I choose not to do it." 

"Nice to know I'm good for something." He said. 

"Well, it defiantly isn't your cooking." She said. 

"Hey!" He replied. 

The warehouse was at the end of the alley. They opened the door and threw in several bombs, after those were spent Zevran slipped into the room, throwing even more bombs and positioning himself behind the guards. Leliana started firing as Alistair and Kathryn charged in. There were more than they thought but with Alistair drawing their attention, Kathryn and him took out the melee while Leliana and Zevran got the crossbowmen. It had been a tough fight but seeing the silver bars in the chest made them all feel better. 

Next they had to find the lady's maid in the market. Leliana said she had this one and told Zevran to stay close so that she could hand off the purse to him. Just as they approached the maid turned away, putting the purse out of reach. They stood close waiting for the right opportunity. 

The maid moved on to the next table of goods. Leliana motioned for Zevran to follow her. Within moments the purse was in Zevran's hands with the maid none the wiser. 

They entered the Wonders of Thedas. Wynne approached them and indicated Ser Nancine in the upstairs portion of the shop. Leliana took the first crack while the others waiting and looked around. Leliana came back. She couldn't get close enough to Ser Nancine. Zevran took the next crack but while he could get close enough to hear Ser Nancine's heart beat, he had not the skill to take the sword out of the scabbard. 

Wynne, with a roll of her eyes, mumbled "Children," and told Zevran to stand by and took Leliana's hand. They approached Ser Nancine and got her into a conversation about her very bad cold. They helped Ser Nancine to a chair and while Wynne healed her cold, Leliana took the sword handing it off to Zevran. Wynne instructed Ser Nancine to sit there are rest for one hour or else the cold would come back worse than before. Within moments, Ser Nanacine was fast asleep. 

As they made their way back to the tavern for a celebratory drink. Alistair asked. "What are you going to do with the stuff? Can't use it as is?" 

"No, I guess not. Need to get some coin for it, sell it to someone. Not sure who would take it." Kathryn mused. 

"Well, Slim did say he fenced things, sold trinkets. And If we sell the stuff through him, we know he will be careful and won't sell us out, and then he has even less reason to give us bad information." Alistair said hoping not to sound too eager. 

"That is very true, my friend. It would do well to make him as invested in our success as we can." Zevran said. "And it isn't like we know that many fences around the city, anyway." 

"Do we know where he is?" Kathryn said, as they entered the tavern. 

"That appears not to be an issue, my dear." Zevran said and indicated that Slim was in fact sitting at a table with an ale. 

Slim looked up as they entered. "Good to see you, Warden. Fighting the good fight, eh?" 

"We had a profitable day." Kathryn said and presented the goods. Money exchanged hands and all seemed happy with the transaction. 

"I'm not sure if I have anything else handy." Slim said. 

"That's enough for us for now anyway." Kathryn said. 

"You take care. Give those darkspawn what they deserve. Us low-born folk are rooting for you!" He said warmly. As they started to leave, Slim put a box on the table. Alistair picked up the box, and then joined the others in a toast to the generosity of the nobility to ending the Blight. 

Roland walked back into the tavern. Kathryn went over to talk to him. He seemed much calmer and thoughtful. Before she had a chance, he said. "Kathryn, I'm sorry. I… shouldn't have… with all you've done… I'm an ass." 

"Well," she said with a slight smile. "At least you admit it." 

"That must count for something, right?" He said. "You were right and I should know better than to question you. They teach you so much about honor and duty that you forget there are more important things. I guess it is much easier to see the world in black and white and as clear and easy choices, when that isn't the way it is at all." He admitted. 

"You're father is a smart man." Kathryn said with a smile. 

Roland chuckled. "That he is." He shook his head. "It is that obvious, huh?" 

"No, I'm just that clever." She said. "Come, we have had a good day and will have a good meal before we head back to camp." 

Alistair discretely put the box into his pack. 

Chapter 30: Ninth Camp 

30.1 Alistair 

Alistair opened his pack and took out his drawing materials, and with it the box containing the lockpicking set. He opened it, and saw that not only did it contain a full set of instruments but a leather pouch to hold them. One that could be placed inside a glove or gauntlet or even a boot or tied to an arm or leg or around the waist. Kathryn was making her rounds and was heading in the direction of Leliana who had gotten very quiet since returning to camp. He looked over and Roland seemed preoccupied. He put the pack and supplies down, grabbed the box and approached Kathryn. 

"Here." He said. "This is for you. I… well, I wanted to make up… um… pay you back for the game set. I never really thanked you for it." 

Kathryn took the box and carefully opened it. "Lockpicks! Where did you get this?" She said excited and pleased. 

"Oh, you know I have connections." He said. 

"You bought it from Slim, didn't you?" She asked. 

"Well, yes." He admitted. "But it sounds better if I'm mysterious about it." 

She looked over the tools. "I can't let you pay for this, it must have cost… a lot." 

"No, we worked something out." Alistair said. 

"Doesn't involve anything illegal, does it?" She asked. "I mean, nothing bad, right?" 

"Well, there is a dress involved, but you really don't want to know any more than that." He said with a smile. 

"Fair enough." She said with a laugh. She looked back over the set and then to him. "Thank you, really." 

"You're welcome." He said and before things got too awkward he went back to his drawings and let her talk to Leliana. 

30.2 Alistair 

Alistair went through his pictures. He was doing better. He had drawn most everyone in camp at least once, portraits and full body. He had given Leliana the one of her singing, but he had another of her as she was now, firing her bow, then one of Wynne casting a spell, one of Roland with blade drawn, one of the dog sniffing the air, Sten… being Sten, and one of Zevran daggers flying. As he looked through them, he saw Zevran come up from behind. 

"Those are outstanding!" Zevran said. 

"Oh, thank you." Alistair responded. 

"May I look?" Zevran asked. 

"Sure." Alistair handed him the drawings. 

Zevran studied each one, going over the lines. At times even comparing them to their objects. Then he got to the one of him. "Marvelous!" He said. "Just look at that expression, handsome but deadly, body in action full of drama and energy, very manly." 

"You can have it, if you want." Alistair said glad that Zevran liked the portrayal. 

"Can I? Why thank you!" He said. He set his picture aside and went through the rest, as though looking for something and then handed them back to Alistair. "But you have not captured the likeness of our fearless leader." 

"Ah… no, she… doesn't stay still long enough to get a good picture." Alistair said looking through the drawings. 

"Oh, I see but you are in luck for now she sits just there talking to Leliana and you can show me how you make such brilliant drawings." Zevran said. 

Alistair tried hard to think of a reason not too but couldn't, well he could but not one he wanted to admit. He took out a pencil from the box. "Well, first you decide what the picture is, if portrait or torso or full body and then the position, sitting, standing, looking away or to the side." 

"Hmmm…" Zevran considered. "You would want a picture to show off the subject's best assets, yes? For example, Leliana has superb legs but not as much in the upper body, basically from the legs up she is quite boyish, no waist or hips to speak of at all. Now the lovely Wynne has such a magnificent bosom you would have to put it to best display. The witch, well, is somewhat lacking in the bosom department and is very thin. There is barely enough meat on her bones to feed the dog, but she has a most beautiful face." Zevran thought and then continued. 

"But Kathryn, ah… she is well-built, shoulders and hips strong and round, limbs muscular but well proportioned, her bosom, while admittedly not as marvelous as Wynne's, is splendid… beautiful in its shape and size, high and firm, but the feature that is truly awe-inspiring is her…" 

"You know…" Alistair said crumbling up the paper and tossing it into the fire. "I… I'm… I'll just do a portrait, face… face only." 

"As you wish." Zevran said while trying to hide a smile. 

30.3 Roland 

Roland was watching Kathryn and Leliana talk. Leliana was upset with the events surrounding Majoliane but he could see how talking to Kathryn calmed and consoled her, how her look became less upset and depressed and more resolved and thoughtful. Kathryn had that effect on people. 

There seemed to be no end of those trying to kill Kathryn but there was more about the day that made him uncomfortable. Alistair had saved her. He had reacted faster than Roland had and put himself into harm's way to protect her. He had said he would because she was the leader and he proved he meant it but Roland had to wonder if that was the only reason. 

He didn't like how they had danced together, how they fought together, how she had gone back for him against his advice, how she wouldn't leave camp without him, how she discussed plans with him, how she trusted his opinion above everyone else's, even his. He didn't like how she laughed when she talked to him. 

Roland was not a jealous man but she wasn't acting in the way she should, not that he expected her to be a proper lady not in this situation, she needed to be a leader, and was under a great deal of stress, but still… Alistair had ordered her out of the fight at the Pearl and she let that stand without a word. 

She trusted Alistair, not that she didn't trust him but still… and after the fight at the Pearl, the two of them had stood in the room for several minutes, just standing together. Zevran had tried to usher him out of the room saying that they needed a moment to talk. Roland had pointed out that they weren't speaking at all. Zevran had looked at him with an odd mix of amusement and pity, a look he didn't understand. 

Alistair was a good and an honorable man, and he didn't believe he had any intentions to her, besides he was with Leliana but he suspected that he had feelings for Kathryn that went beyond friends or comrades or wardens or most anything else. Roland wasn't sure if she knew at all or if she was just ignoring them or was simply flattered but it couldn't be more than that. They were together. She was committed to their relationship, he knew that. They had known each other most of their lives. They had a history and those feelings don't just go away. The situation they found themselves in was difficult. He was in all likelihood over reacting. Things between them had been going well, despite the few concerns he had about her behavior and the slight disagreement about the forced contributions they had gotten that day. 

In fact, he was now sure that it was time for the next step. He knew that while it was preferable to wait for sanction, they did not have that option. Besides all that really mattered was all that should, that they cared about each other and were committed to their relationship. And it was very likely that they may not have that kind of time. They were all in constant danger and he didn't want to wait and lose their chance. He had thought it out, what he would say and now he was just waiting for the right moment… 

30.4 Kathryn 

Kathryn had just finished her rounds, talking to each person, seeing what they needed or if something they wanted to discuss. Roland walked over to her. He didn't even wait for her to say anything but began. 

"Wait, please. I have something to say… I want to tell you that I love you. I have loved you for most of my life. You have been a friend, a companion, a sister to me and now so much more. You are all to me. The things that kept us apart, those things don't matter now. All that does matter is how we feel. And while I am willing to wait for sanction, the fact is that we are at risk constantly and I would hate to lose our chance by waiting. I do not need sanction from anyone, for I am committed to you and no ceremony will make that any more true or meaningful to me. I want to be with you tonight and for the rest of my life." Roland said. 

Kathryn had known this was coming. She had tried to figure out what she would say, how she would feel, but knew that she wouldn't know till it happened. She had tried to think about it, about being with him, tried to imagine it, tried to decide if she was ready for this. Leliana said she would know, but she didn't. Maybe that's how you know you aren't ready. She wanted to… well, she wanted to want to… she knew she should… want to… knew all the reasons why she should… and should want to… but thinking about all the act entailed… she… just… couldn't. 

"Roland, I can't… I'm not ready… with everything... I'm sorry." She could see the disappointment on his face but while she felt horrible, she couldn't make herself and in truth wouldn't want to. "I do care for you, you know that, but I…" She reached for the words to make this right but knew there weren't any. 

"No, my dear. Do not be sorry. If you are not ready, then I will wait until you are. I know much has happened, much has been asked of you... I do not wish to pressure you in any way or cause you any distress." He said softly. 

"You are not… angry." She asked. 

"Angry? Of course not. How could I be? I know that this is not a small matter, and one I want you to be sure of and never be able to regret. Disappointed, yes but I am willing to wait, for I know you will be worth waiting for." He kissed her on the check and turned and retreated to his tent. 

30.5 Alistair 

Alistair watched as Leliana disappeared into her tent. They had talked for a long time. He had offered to listen but she hadn't really wanted to talk about Majolaine, and he didn't ask. Only at the end, right before saying good night, had she mentioned anything and that only in passing. 

She had said how hard it was to believe someone you know and trust and care about can betray you so horribly with hardly a thought for their own selfish interests. That even if you are sure you know someone, many times you only think you do, that you see them as you want them to be not as they are, how your feelings towards them and how your mind and heart can blind you to the truth. 

Alistair saw as Roland walked up to Kathryn. He looked serious, almost nervous. Alistair wondered what they could be talking about that he would be… Oh. As it was, he had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about, what he was asking her. Roland had said at the brothel that he could wait but apparently, he couldn't wait any longer. Yes, he was sure that Roland was asking Kathryn to lie with him. 

Alistair looked at the ground and fire and stars, anywhere and everywhere but at them. He didn't want to see this, not the response or watch them go to her tent or hear… Blast it! He had first watch which meant he would be awake for the whole thing and probably would hear everything. The Maker certainly has a sense of humor! 

He knew in his mind that it was only a crush he had on Kathryn, one he would get over, grow out of eventually, but it felt real. It still felt like his heart was breaking to know any chance he had was disappearing and would be gone by morning. He still felt the full force of disappointment. Even with Leliana, with as well as that was going, part of him still wished and wanted Kathryn and he knew that it probably always would. He could tell himself it was silly and hopeless, but it didn't seem to matter in the least. It still hurt. 

He didn't want to look but he couldn't keep his eyes away any longer. Maybe if he watched them… saw how happy she was… how much they cared for each other… maybe if he forced himself to see, maybe then he would realize it was hopeless and finally be able to let it… let her go and then he could move on, at least he hoped so. 

He looked to them but they didn't look very happy. Roland looked disappointed but was trying to hide the extent and the bitterness of it. She looked upset, tense and sad. Then Roland kissed her on the cheek and disappeared into his tent. Kathryn looked after Roland for a moment or two and then took a deep breath. She then turned but instead of going into her tent she came over and sat down next to him. 

He wanted to say something but while any other time they could talk about most anything no matter how important or insignificant, at the moment he couldn't think of a single thing to say. 

Kathryn just stared into the fire and then out of nowhere she said. "I guess being raised in the Chantry, you’ve… never…?" 

Of all the things he thought she might say, this was not on the list and it was a big list. But it did confirm for him that Roland had asked her to lie with him. Why else would she be asking him this? But he wasn't going to be that easy to pin down. So he stalled. He also wanted to make her smile, she was far too serious for this conversation, and… he was stalling. This wasn't something he wanted to admit especially to her. But he got her to admit that she hadn’t which somehow made him feel better about it and better about admitting it. 

The Chantry had taught him to be a gentleman, especially in the presence of beautiful women like Kathryn and he told he so. He could feel his face flushing. This conversation was getting painfully embarrassing. What he had said even sounded like a cop out to him, but in truth he had been taught to and did take such things seriously. He didn't want to do that with just anyone. 

She looked up at him curiously and said. "Wait. You think I'm beautiful?" 

"I… did I say beautiful?" he ran through what he had said, …theytaughtmetobeagentlemanespeciallyinthepresenceof-BEAUTIFUL-womensuchas-YOURSELF… He had said she was beautiful. He hadn't meant to say that, at least not like that. If he was going to say that he wouldn't have said it like that. But he hadn't meant to say it at all. It was just that she was. It was a fact. In truth, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

But everyone said she was beautiful, and for the most part she blew them off. But she wasn't blowing him off. She looked curious… and surprised… and even pleased? "Do you… have any particular opinion on my saying that?" He asked. 

"Yes… no. It… I… I don't mind hearing that from you." He noticed with some pleasure the emphasis on the 'from you' part of that. "I just didn't know you thought so." She said with a coy and even flirtatious smile. It was one he had seen before but not for a while, not since... but more important, she seemed pleased that he thought so. 

"Of course, I do… think so, I mean…" He said and she smiled a bigger, brighter smile and looked away almost shyly. "Everyone thinks so. You know you are. In fact, you'd probably hurt me if I didn't say so." He said with a bit of a laugh. 

"Oh… I see, of course." He saw her expression fall, the smile disappear. She looked to the ground, closing her eyes and slightly shaking her head. She suddenly seemed embarrassed and even… disappointed? She continued quickly and almost nervously, speaking more to herself than to him. "Yes, I can think of many things that I think are beautiful but that doesn't mean I… like them or mean anything at all... Stupid of me, really." She stood and without looking at him mumbled a quick "Good night." And before he could say anything, she disappeared into her tent. 

30.6 Alistair 

"Good night." Alistair said to the space where Kathryn had been a moment before. He wasn't quite sure what had happened, they had been talking having a fun and pleasant conversation, and then she just ran off. Even worse, she seemed upset and he didn't know why. He was sure that he had said something stupid but for the life of him, he didn't know what. He had so little experience of women that he must have inadvertently done or said something wrong. 

He went over what had happened. She had asked him if he had ever done… that, which he had admitted he hadn't and in trying to explain he had accidentally said she was beautiful. She had seemed pleased by that, which was odd since usually she blew such comments off but then when he said that everyone thought she was beautiful, and that she had to know she was… she got all huffy and ran off. He wasn't in the habit of giving compliments especially to women but he didn't quite understand how saying that everyone thought she was beautiful could be a bad thing. No, there had to be something else. 

What had she said before she ran off, something like 'I think many things are beautiful but that doesn't mean I like them or mean anything at all.' So… just because he thought she was beautiful didn't mean he liked her… true…. wait… had she thought it did? And didn't she already know that? That he liked her, like… liked her liked her, because he obviously liked her, they were friends but… well… maybe she didn't know. Maybe somehow in between all the battles and death and bearing the responsibility of saving the world from the Blight, she had missed that fact. Yes, that was possible. 

And then when he said that everyone thought she was beautiful, she realized that the fact that he thought she was didn't mean anything, and that upset her. But why would that fact upset her? Well… she was flattered that he, or anyone really, would like her, and then disappointed that he didn't. Except that he did, like her… well… not really… he had a crush on her. After Ostagar, he had become infatuated with her and despite his best efforts, still was. 

He had lost everyone and she was the only one left. She was someone to hold on to, bond with, a friend and comrade. He had read too much into that, more than there ever was, because she was female and nice and… beautiful. But it was wishful thinking at best, and he knew that now. He looked up to her, respected and admired her, believed in her. She gave him hope when he needed it, courage and confidence. She had taken control when he was grieving, she had been a true friend to him and he was very fond of her but any more was just his imagination. 

He knew he saw her in idealized and unrealistic way, as a hero and commander, a champion, a… goddess, but not a real person. Not the way he saw or felt about Leliana at all. The feelings he had for Kathryn felt intense and very real, but so do many things that aren't. 

Besides just because she might have been pleased by the fact that he liked her, that didn't mean she had any feeling for him… right? Of course it didn't, besides she was with Roland and he was with Leliana, but he had to wonder… she had seemed awfully upset to have only been flattered that he liked her. 

30.7 Kathryn 

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." Kathryn said to herself as she retreated into her tent. Of course he thinks she is beautiful, so does everyone. It doesn't mean anything. She knows better than that. Even if people don't think so, they say so, just to be polite and courteous. It is one of those meaningless things people say to be nice. 

But he wasn't being nice, and she had thought… it didn't matter what she thought, because it wasn't true. He didn't… And why was she so upset about that? It wasn't like she didn't know that he didn't. He was with Leliana. He… very obviously liked Leliana and she liked him and she and Alistair were comrades and wardens and friends, good friends, yes but that was all. And why was that fact so disappointing to her? 

When she had thought for that moment that he might like her, like… like her, she had felt… but it didn't matter. It didn't mean anything. It had been based on a misunderstanding. He didn't like her, he had never said anything, never gave any indication he felt anything. 

Besides, she was with Roland, and despite her not being ready to take their relationship further, she did care about him. She was just feeling the pressure of that next step, just entertaining a daydream that was safer than the real relationship she had with Roland. It was all in her head. She and Alistair had been though a lot together in the short time they had known each other and it had brought them closer but she couldn't read too much into that. It is easy to romanticize those feelings, make them into more than what they are, and she couldn't afford to do that. 

But she had to admit, the disappointment that he didn't like her… was bitter. And despite the fact that Roland had wanted to lie with her this night, that bitter disappointment was all she could think about. 

Chapter 31: Return to Ostagar 

31.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn looked up from the valley to the fortress of Ostagar and finally to the tower of Ishal. They had followed a rumor and found a surviving member of the royal guard who had given them the location of the key to the royal arms chest that remained at Ostagar. Attacking the fortress filled with darkspawn was pure folly but as they traveled along the West Road they had heard from travelers that a winter storm had struck the wilds blanketing everything in snow and encasing the area in bitter cold. Alistair told them that darkspawn cannot handle the cold, even worse than most creatures and with the horde having moved on, it might be worth a look. 

Kathryn knew that she couldn't keep Alistair from going and Wynne insisted. Roland was more than willing but she could tell by Sten's actions that he wanted to go. Sten had mentioned Ostagar before and had asked about it on several occasions. He seemed to share an odd kinship with those who had fought and died there, himself nearly sharing their fate at the hands of the darkspawn. 

As they entered the valley, they could see that the camp that contained the king's soldiers and the Grey Wardens contained no darkspawn but had been picked clean, both by those fleeing the battle and scavengers. They found little of any value or use. 

As they got close to the gate, Kathryn turned to Alistair and asked "Well?" 

Alistair looked up at the fortress. "Maybe fifty total but spread out in small groups all over. There are about a dozen more powerful ones, generals, alphas, emissaries… that type. But I can't be more specific than that." He said. 

"Are you willing to bet our lives that you're right?" She asked. 

He looked at the fortress again. "Yes." He said. That was enough for her and the others. They got ready to enter the fortress. 

She stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment and then said. "Wait… is it… sensing them, like a buzzing but you feel it?" She asked him. 

"Yes, that's it." Alistair said nodding. 

"But I can't tell how many or what kind. It seems to come from everywhere." She admitted. 

"You will be able to. It takes time." He said. 

31.2 Alistair 

They fought their way through the gate and into the fortress. The second small group they encountered contained an emissary, who was wearing a piece of Cailan's royal armor. Alistair ripped the armor off the darkspawn's body. Something about this corrupted thing wearing it angered and grieved him. Now he knew that Cailan was dead. Not that he had any doubt of that fact but he had had the smallest bit of hope. 

The others stayed back while he and Kathryn continued up the ramp to the area where they had first met. He could tell by her look she was thinking about that too. It seemed so long ago, another lifetime, someone else's lifetime. He felt like a different person. Well, in so many ways he was. 

He hadn't thought about anything that had happened at Ostagar, good or bad, since leaving the wilds after the battle. It had been too painful for him to think about. There had been too much anger and grief for him to deal with then. But now with the time that had passed, he could. 

He thought about meeting Kathryn that day, about the mage he was sent to give the message to and about how he had barely been aware someone had walked up to them. He thought about how he had turned to whoever it was and had made some remark about the Blight bringing people together, hoping they got the joke. Then he had seen her for the first time and been completely blown away. Not only by how beautiful she was but by the fact that she got the joke, that she had a sense of humor, by how clever she was, how spirited but yet still nice and even kind, and… well… how well-built she was. Then when she smiled at him it felt like he had been kicked in the chest, even that first time. 

He felt a tightness in his lungs and it seemed harder for him to breathe. With the memories unlocked, more flooded through his mind. He remembered the wilds and how impressed he had been that she had taken charge, in her leadership skills, her courage and cunning. He recalled how well they fought together even then, and how they both noticed it and made adjustments without a word spoken between them. Finally he remembered how he had hoped and even prayed that she survived the joining, how relieved… how happy, in fact, he had been that she had and how he had hoped that not only could they be partners, but maybe so much more. 

Then he remembered how he had heard that she was the teyrn's daughter, a noble lady, and how he had come to the conclusion that he had no chance with her, no chance at all. He didn't know anything about women and figured she could have her choice and why would she want him. He had forgotten that, he had forgotten all of it. Or perhaps he had wanted to forget. 

For he had convinced himself it was nothing, that what he had felt wasn't real. He had talked himself out of what he had felt and what he had wanted, to try and save himself the pain of its disappointment. It had seemed so reasonable to him then, for he had seen it happen many times. Some of the younger boys at the monastery would develop these intense crushes on the younger and prettier sisters, and at times the not so young and pretty ones. They were alone and scared and they would focus on them, becoming infatuated and even obsessed with them, overcome by admiration and adoration, seeing them in unrealistic and idealized ways, but eventually they would grow out of it. 

He had decided that was what had happened to him regarding Kathryn. That he had developed one of these childish, immature and unrealistic crushes on her, seeing her and what he had felt for her as more than what they were. But now he understood that he hadn't. He hadn't become infatuated with her after Ostagar, hadn't develop these feelings for her after she had taken command when he couldn't, hadn't imagined feelings for her because he had lost everyone, it wasn't anything like that. He had liked her from the beginning, and not because he saw her as more than what she was but because he saw her for exactly who she was. 

31.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn looked about the area. She was practical before sentimental and was looking for anything useful but didn't see anything. Only then did she allow herself to remember that this was the place she had met Alistair. She thought about that conversation and how he had made her smile at the worst time in her life, when she wasn't sure she could or ever wanted to again. How he had made her feel alive, like nothing else ever had or did. She remembered how impressed she had been by his wit and awkward but sincere charm, how handsome he was, and then there was that smile of his that had just the right amounts of warmth and mischievousness to it and how much she liked it when he smiled at her. 

As she walked around the area, her eye did catch a glint in the snow. She went over and looked and it was the joining chalice. That was something she remembered and didn't want to. She was standing right in this spot when she had taken the cup from Duncan. Then she blacked out and woke up… over there. Wait… something wasn't right about that. She hadn't noticed it at the time but she should have fallen where she stood, forward or back but not off to the side, not where… Alistair had been standing. She looked to him and saw that he was watching her. "You caught me." She said. "The joining, my joining, when I blacked out… you caught me." 

He looked down to the ground and then nodded, seemingly embarrassed by the fact. "Yes." He said forcing his eyes back to hers. 

"Why?" She asked, suddenly finding it harder to breathe. 

"I… I couldn't let you fall." He said simply. She looked at him, holding his eyes. Then she understood… he had liked her. He had liked her from the beginning. But why hadn't he said anything to her? Why hadn't he told her? Probably because he was too shy or too inexperienced to say anything. He had been raised in a monastery, how was he supposed to know what to do. And then after the battle, it wasn't like he wasn't trying to deal with the deaths of Duncan and the other Grey Wardens. 

Somehow with all that had happened, she hadn't seen it. Missed the signs that now thinking about it seemed so obvious. Why hadn't she said… something? Because she wasn't used to saying anything. She had never needed to before. Mostly she had to fend off unwanted attention, not seek it out. She just thought if he was interested, he would say or do or something. So she gave up on him, instead of saying something, she let herself be persuaded her feelings were not reciprocated. Was it really that simple? Had they both been waiting for the other to say or do something and stood by and allowed their chance to slip away? 

She looked down. "Come on. We have work to do yet." 

31.4 Wynne 

Wynne looked around. It was hard to believe that people ever inhabited this place after seeing what the darkspawn had done to it. Nearly impossible to look at the death and destruction and remember the life and lives that had been here months before and how all of them were gone, murdered, betrayed and abandoned. It had all been terrible to behold. A tragedy that even if she lived another hundred years she would never be able to erase from her mind. 

The wardens walked back down the ramp. They seemed to be wrapped in their own thoughts, there was sadness but she also sensed something else going on that she was not privy to. 

They fought their way through the main part of the camp, after collecting another piece of Cailan's armor, searching through the quartermasters goods and the mage encampment for anything valuable or useful, they found the key to the royal arms chest. 

The chest contained the letters and documents the royal guard said it did. Kathryn gave them to her for safe keeping. The implications one could derive from them were interesting and she wondered what Kathryn would choose to do with them. There was money and other valuables there but of greatest interest was the sword. 

It was nearly as legendary as the man who had wielded it. Even Sten was impressed. Kathryn picked it up, and after admiring it for a moment, she turned and held it out for Alistair. "It's yours now." 

Alistair looked at the sword with a mix of longing, sorrow and anger. All that was left of a father he would never know. Wynne could see the flood of emotions, nearly feel them herself, they were so powerful, but in the end the anger won out. "No," he said. "He wouldn't want me to have it." Wynne could hear the harsh bitterness in his voice. The pain still so sharp even after so many years but she knew that kind of abandonment, you never really get over. 

"But Cailan would." Kathryn said gently. Alistair had told Wynne that he and Cailan never really spoke, but it was also likely that Cailan didn't know about him, know who he was, know he was his brother. Alistair's anger seemed to dissipate. He swallowed hard and with a look of sadness, he tentatively reached out and took the sword. As he raised it up, looking at it in the sunlight, Wynne could tell it felt good in his hands. 

Afterwards they continued down the bridge to the tower side of the camp, but about halfway, they found Cailan. 

"Why?" Kathryn said, stunned at the barbarity of it. 

"He is the leader." Sten said. 

"Yes, but how would they know?" Kathryn asked. 

"He was wearing the strongest armor." Sten replied. "It is how warring people indentify the kings and generals on a battlefield." 

Alistair looked sick. Kathryn stepped up beside him. "Not now, we aren't safe yet." 

"I know." Alistair said. He stepped closer to the body and said low. "Forgive us. When we have driven the darkspawn from this place and bought ourselves some time, we'll be back to see you to the Maker." 

In front of the tower of Ishal, there were more darkspawn and another piece of Cailan's armor. As they made their way through the first level of the tower, Wynne remarked. "Well, the darkspawn have certainly made themselves at home." 

"No," Kathryn said. "It was like this…" Then she suddenly stopped and looked around. A growing look of horror on her face. She turned to Alistair. "We should have known!" For a moment Alistair looked confused and then realization bordering on shock came over his face. He looked as though he had been punched hard in the gut. 

"What is it?" Wynne asked. 

"It was like this when we got here, during the battle." Kathryn said. 

Now Wynne was confused. "But it would have taken a long time for the darkspawn to have moved in like this. They wouldn't have had time if they only swarmed the tower right before the battle. They would have had to be here for days…" Wynne was starting to understand the implications. 

"Exactly. And who's men were supposed to be guarding and investigating the tower?" Kathryn said bitterly. 

"Loghain's." Alistair said more to himself. 

"We should have known. Should have seen this for what it was. We should have done something." Kathryn said sounding desperate and angry. 

Alistair shook his head. "But even if we had… understood, what could we have done? What did we have time to do? The battle had begun. Even knowing this, we still could not imagine Loghain would do what he did and even if we had figured that out… no one would have believed us. Not then." Alistair said sadly. 

The way to the top of the tower had been sealed off. They made their way to the battlefield itself. There they found the last piece of armor and a dead ogre. 

Alistair walked over to the body of the ogre. There was a sword and a dagger sticking out of its heart. He looked to Kathryn who had walked up beside him. 

He indicated the weapons. "They're Duncan's." He said softly. He took a deep breath. "Now I know… know for certain, he's dead." He grabbed the two and pulled them out of the body. Looking them over, he continued. "He would never leave these. I knew, I always knew but you hope, you know, that maybe… somehow." He set his jaw and then turned the weapons and pommels first presented them to Kathryn. "Here." 

"Why don't you keep them." She said softly. "Something of his to take with you." 

"No." He said sure. "I can't use them. Duncan was a rogue. The dagger I can't use at all and the sword is too light… and… I don't want them. I do want… something to remember him by, something to take with me, but not this. I want to remember how he lived… not… not how he died. " He said shaking his head. "I know he would want you to have them." Kathryn reached out and took them from him. 

Alistair and Kathryn took a minute to check but all the darkspawn were now dead. There was daylight left and they had one promise to keep. 

31.5 Kathryn 

"We can't leave him like this. If for no other reason than to deprive the darkspawn of their prize and… target practice." Alistair said bitterly as they stood again before the body of Cailan. She could hear the pleading in his voice. It had to be hard for him, to look at someone that was family, that you were related to, even if you didn't know them. As long as he lived there was always the chance of a relationship but now, he never would. Alistair had lost so much in his life, it hardly seemed fair. 

"We have time to give him a proper pyre." Kathryn said. Alistair seemed relieved and grateful. 

"Why?" Sten asked flatly. "Because he was your king." 

"No," she said, "because he gave his life to protect this land and its people from the Blight. We'd burn them all if we could but he is the only one left." 

"Whatever his faults as a man or a king, he risked his life to fight on the battlefield when he didn't have to. Perhaps under the circumstances he did the best he could and he deserved better than to be betrayed and murdered. They all did." Alistair said sadly. 

Sten looked at them for a moment and then to Cailan. "I will gather wood." 

Kathryn climbed up and freed him as Alistair brought him to the ground. "Come, if we both…" she started to say. 

"No, I... I'll take him." Alistair said. He lifted him over his shoulder and made his way back to the remains of Duncan's fire. 

While there was a lot of snow, with the bitter cold most of the wood was dry. Soon they had a pyre built. Alistair laid Cailan's body on top of it. He looked at him for a long time, finally grasping Cailan's hand for a moment before turning away. Kathryn held the torch out for him, but he shook his head. She stepped forward and with a silent prayer lit the pyre. She walked to where the others were standing, taking a position next to Alistair, as they all watched it burn. 

After a moment, she stepped closer and allowed her hand to touch the back of his. He didn't acknowledge it, not looking to her nor moving his hand. She then took her index finger and set it against his. As she did, he slightly turned his head towards her for a moment and then he turned back to the pyre, but did not move his hand. Finally she took her first two fingers and wrapped them gently around his. Without turning his head, he gripped her fingers. They stood and watched until the body disappeared into the flames. 

"Come." She said. "We can do no more here." They gathered what they had collected and made their way back to camp. 

31.6 Kathryn 

Kathryn was going through what they had collected from Ostagar. She indicated the set of Cailan's armor and said to Alistair. "It is a good set of armor, it could be useful." 

"I can't wear it." He said. 

"I know it was his…" she said. 

"No, that's not what I mean." He said. "I don't mean I won't wear it, I mean I can't." He saw her confusion and began to explain. "Leather armor is different, but metal armor, medium, heavy and massive armor is all made the same size. The pieces are identical. That's why everyone looks the same size wearing it. The reason different sized and shaped people can wear the armor is because of the straps and buckles, that's how you adjust it. But a royal set or any set made for a specific person, isn't made to adjust. It is made to fit them specifically, perfectly. If the person gains or losses weight they have to get a new set. If another person is close, very close to the same size and build, they may be able to wear it. Now Cailan and I seem to have a similar build, width of shoulder and hips, length of thigh and forearm but he… well…" He stopped, searching for the words. 

"He is a noble who is more used to raising jeweled goblets than swords and doesn't have the muscles of an actual warrior." She said. 

"Yes, basically that's it." He answered with a shrug. 

But you do, she thought, and don't I know it. She watched as he walked back to the fire and sat next to Leliana. He had liked her. At least at one time, he had. Watching him with Leliana, there was little doubt he had moved on and she couldn't blame him for that. 

If she had known that he had liked her, really liked her, would it have changed anything? If he had said something, before the battle, before Lothering, before Roland joined them, before her and Roland got together, before him and Leliana got together, would it have made any difference? Would it make a difference… now? 

She felt a wave of what felt like sorrow wash over her and she pushed the question out of her mind for she suddenly realized that she really didn't want to know the answer. 

31.7 Alistair 

Leliana had second watch and after telling her all about the day's adventures, she quickly kissed Alistair good night and went into her tent. 

Well, he hadn't told her everything. He had left out the part about holding Kathryn's hand and the fact that he had realized that what he had felt for Kathryn, what he still did feel for her was not some childish, unrealistic crush but real. 

But did it matter that he knew that? Would it have made any difference if he had said something to Kathryn? She had never given any indication that she felt anything towards… wait… she is a noble lady, a beautiful one from a powerful family. She has had probably every nobleman from here to the Anderfells and beyond pursuing her. Would it even occur to her to say anything? And it wasn't like she didn't have the fate of Thedas to worry about either. Oh Dear Maker! Was he really that much of an idiot? Wait, he knew the answer to that one. 

He had figured he had no chance and just gave up, gave up without a fight, without even trying, just like that. And back then he could live with that, but now things were different, he was different. He had said that he was going to think about himself more, think about what he wanted, and during the entire course of his life there had been only one thing he had ever really wanted and that was Kathryn. 

What about Leliana? He liked her, he did and he didn't want to hurt her, but he had to know about Kathryn. He had to find out what that was or could be, and if nothing then he could devote himself to Leliana. Otherwise he would always wonder. He had to know, he had to try, he had to do something. He just didn't know what. 

31.8 Wynne and Alistair 

Wynne decided that she would make tea before going to bed. Alistair was still sitting at the fire seemingly deep in thought. She got his attention and asked. "Would you like some tea?" 

"Oh… yes, please." He said. He was distracted. She figured with all that had happened today, he had much to think about. She prepared the tea and handed it to him. 

She had seen Leliana kiss him good night. She had been unaware that things were going so well, but she was glad. She had seen him with Kathryn and that could be a bad thing, a very bad thing. She was concerned, it would be better if the wardens focused on their duty and left the romances alone but they were young and that was wishful thinking on her part. But she felt somewhat better with the current pairings. 

The wardens were in the most danger but both Roland and Leliana were older and could better handle whatever may happen. Alistair and Kathryn were young and inexperienced and if something happened between them and worse if then something happened to one of them… well, it could go very badly. 

Chapter 32: Tenth Camp

32.1 Alistair 

Alistair watched as Kathryn finished making her rounds, talking to each of their companions in turn. She had already given the grimoire they had taken from Flemeth's hut to Morrigan who seemed delighted with it and relieved that she was no longer in immediate danger. It had been a hard fight for Flemeth had shapeshifted into a high dragon and while they had been victorious, something about the fight still bothered him, but he couldn't quite figure out what. 

He looked back to the game board. It was Leliana's move and she was thinking it over. He had noticed that of late she was considering her moves more carefully. She was still much better at the game than he was, adept at manipulating it, but he was much improved. 

She made her move. "Do not misunderstand, I do not regret my time in the Chantry at all. It was good for me after all that had happened in Orlais. I needed time away to see that there was a different path, but now I see that path is not right for me either." She said. 

"I get it. The Chantry life is all right for some. I know it wasn't for me, that's for sure." Alistair said. 

"Yes, I want more than just a life filled with quiet contemplation. I mean after a while it was… boring. Now I feel ready to embrace all life has to offer, the good and the bad, the dangerous and the rewarding." She said. 

Alistair moved and then said."Yes, at least out here doing some good, although I do wish it was a little less dangerous at times." 

"That is what makes the success satisfying, no?" She said and looked over the board. She made her move. "But I do not wish to go back to the person I was. I believe that there is a happy balance. A way to enjoy the fullness of life, to use my skills and abilities not to satisfy the petty squabbles of nobles but for other better, good purposes, like we are now. I just have to find it." She said. 

"One piece of advice…" Alistair said. "Don't become a templar." He made his move and sat back. "Game." 

"What?" She said astonished at the result. 

"It's 'Game.' I won." He said with a smile. She definitely hadn't let him win that one. 

"Oh… so it is. Good. Congratulations." She said trying to play off her surprise. 

"Up for another?" He said. 

"No, it is getting late. I should get some sleep." She said standing and giving him a quick kiss good night. "Good game." She said with a smile and walked away. 

32.2 Alistair 

Alistair started to put the game set away, as Kathryn walked up. "You look awful smug." She said to him. 

"I won a game Leliana didn't let me win." He said. 

"I see. Well… um… you wouldn't be up for another, I suppose." She said. 

Alistair looked up and said with a smile. "I thought you didn't like the game." 

"Well, I was told you didn't know anything about it." She said returning his smile. 

"Fair enough." He began unpacking the set as she sat down opposite him. 

"So the Arl taught you to play?" She asked. 

"Yes, I remember us playing at the castle. I got pretty good." He said with a shrug. 

"I'll be the judge of that." She said as she made her opening move. She took a deep breath. "Father taught me. Fergus too, of course, but he didn't take to it as I did. Mother played but didn't enjoy it as much. She preferred cards, and was quite good. Father said she had the luck of the Maker himself." She smiled and then looked sad. Alistair realized it was the first time she had mentioned her family. Then after a moment she continued. "But Father and I played quite a bit. He was very good and a good teacher." 

"Well, I'll be the judge of that." He said. "Your move." The game progressed quickly as both were good and decisive players until Alistair was forced to concede defeat. 

"Good game." He said. "Your Father must have been a good teacher, you are very good." 

"He is… was." She shook her head. "Thank you." 

"Another?" He asked. "You must give me a chance to redeem myself." 

"Sure." She said. They set the board up. 

He looked around and saw that only Roland and Zevran were still up and both occupied and out of earshot. "There is something, about today with Flemeth, that's bothering me but I don't know what exactly." 

"I know what's bothering you." She said sure. "Why didn't she just fly away?" 

Alistair sat back and considered. "Yes… yes, that's it exactly." He said. 

"She turns into a flying dragon. Why stay and fight to her death or fight at all? If she had tried to escape, we couldn't have stopped her." She said. 

"Because… she wants… us to think she is dead or at least that we did defeat her?" Alistair said. 

"I don't think she wants us to think so but Morrigan." Kathryn said. 

"Why?" He asked. 

"With her defeated and with Morrigan in possession of the grimoire, she thinks she is safe at least for the time being. And then she doesn't leave us to hide for her own protection." Kathryn said. 

"So, you think that Flemeth wants her to stay with us." Alistair said. 

"Perhaps or at least wants her where she can find her." She replied. 

"So, do you think Flemeth sent Morrigan with us for some other purpose than what she said." Alistair said. 

"That is possible if not probable." Kathryn said. "Another thing, Flemeth told her of the book, and that the templars had taken it, but why? If Morrigan knew of it, there is the possibility that she'd go in search of it." 

"She wanted her to find it. For what purpose?" He said. 

"I don't know, and I doubt any way we can know." She replied. 

"So what did you tell Morrigan." Alistair asked. 

"The truth. That we went to the hut, confronted Flemeth, defeated her, took the grimoire from the hut, and then I gave it to her. Anything more is just conjecture on our part and if she thinks she isn't safe she will leave." She said. 

"You say that like it is a bad thing." He said. "But since you do want her to stay, at least be glad she isn't as smart as she thinks she is, and definitely not as smart as you." He said with a smile. 

He made his move. Kathryn looked over the board. Then up at him and smiled. "That's a brilliant move." He shrugged and smiled. She continued looking over the board concentrating. Then finally with a smile she said. "You won." 

"Well, not yet." He said. 

"A mere technicality, for there is nothing I can do. At most I drag it out is five moves." She said with a smile. 

"Well, not wanting to brag." He said. 

"You don't fool me, you very much want to brag. The Arl must have been a good teacher too." She said. "Shall we make two out of three?" 

"No one each is enough, I think." Alistair said. 

"Then well fought." She said. 

Alistair started to put the set away. "I… I was going to go out to look at the pond, it's nice there and there are fish, and tadpoles too and maybe even frogs. Um… would you want to come with me?" 

"I'd like that." She replied. 

32.3 Kathryn 

Alistair and Kathryn were standing at the edge of the pond watching the fish. 

"I'm worried about Wynne." Alistair said. Kathryn had noticed how the two of them had bonded during their journeys and the revelations that she was living on borrowed time, she knew, could not be easy for Alistair. 

"Yes, I know, but there isn't anything we can do." She said. 

"There should be something." He said not willing to give up so easily. "Someone should know something, right? This has had to have happened before." 

"Perhaps but you know yourself, she is technically an abomination." She said. 

"I know, and if the circle or the templars are made aware of it, they will be more likely to kill her to be safe instead of try to cure her." He said sadly. 

"Yes. So, the best we can do is be silent and hope." She replied. "You like her." 

"Well, she's all grandmotherly." Alistair said sounding much like a little boy. "And she fixed the hole in my shirt and even patched the elbows for me." 

"It is nice to have someone about to nag at us. She does remind me a bit of Mother, strong, fussy, with a sharp tongue, one not to be trifled with. She was a formidable woman." Kathryn said softly. 

"I see you took after her." He said. 

"At least the sharp tongue part but in general I'm more like Father. Fergus was… is more like Mother, but more laid back like Father was." She seemed lost in thought for a moment and then said. "You'd like Fergus. Actually you would have liked them all." 

"Hope I get to meet him." He said. 

"So do I." She said. "It is hard to think about losing those you care about. Maybe it is better not to care so much. You wonder if it isn't preferable to not have such attachments, so that they can't be ripped away. It can be a lot to bear." 

"You don't really think that." Alistair said. "You can't believe it is better to be one of those tranquil, who don't feel anything at all." 

"No, I guess I don't. But strong emotions have a price." She said. 

"As does everything." He said. "Even if it is a high price, it doesn't mean it isn't worth it." 

Several comfortable moments passed. Alistair considered, looked thoughtful and then concerned, concentrating. He looked at Kathryn who was watching the stars. He took out the rose from its hiding place in his chestpiece and when Kathryn looked back to him, he presented it to her. 

"Here, look at this. Do you know what this is?" He said softly. 

"Well, it appears to be a rose." Kathryn asked feeling a bit underwhelmed. It was a beautiful flower, and it wasn't that she didn't like red roses, she did, very much, in fact. But he didn't know that. He was giving her some flower because it was a flower and she was a girl and girls like flowers. It was a nice gesture, but it was somehow disappointing. She had expected something more. 

Alistair went on to explain how he had picked it in Lothering, how he wondered that something so beautiful could exist alongside so much despair and ugliness. She was confused until he said that he thought much the same when he looked at her. That he wanted to tell her what a rare and wonderful thing she was to find amidst all this… darkness. 

Wow! That was the most amazing thing anyone had every said to her. The only reason her mouth was not hanging open, was that she had been taught better manners than that. Finally, she remembered how to talk and that there was always common courtesy to fall back on. "Thank you." She forced herself to say. "I… thank you." 

"I'm glad you like it." He said well pleased by her reaction. 

Like it? He thought she liked it. Wow. Did she ever? "I do… I do like it. I like it very much, indeed." She said warmly. 

As the surprise wore off, she now started to wonder… what did he mean by this? Was it just a gift? No more than what he said it was, or could it be he meant something else, something more by it? 

When they had gone back to Ostagar she had realized that he had had feelings for her, but she had figured that with the passage of time, those feelings had long since gone. He was with Leliana now and had moved on. But maybe she was wrong. She hadn't said anything before, she would not make that mistake again. 

She looked to him, he seemed like he wanted to say something but perhaps didn't know what. He had come this far, she could make an effort. At the very least, she had to know for sure what he intended. 

She was a bit nervous. She had never done anything like this before. "You know… just speaking generally, of course, but usually when a man gives a woman a flower, especially a rose, and even more especially a red rose… he… has… or may have feelings for… them… more than friends." 

Now panic began to set in, maybe she had assumed too much. "Not that I'm saying you do… have or even want… but just generally… usually… you'd want to be clear about that… so no one is confused… that's all." She said. Well, she thought, now that I've completely botched that up. 

"Well, just speaking generally, of course, but usually what does it mean if a man gives a women such a flower and… she accepts it?" He asked. 

Kathryn heart started beating fast, and then faster. In fact, she'd be relieved if a dozen genlocks jumped out of the bushes, so she could calm down. Was he really asking her… that? "Well, just speaking generally, of course, but usually… " 

"Kathryn!" Roland's voice echoed around the small pond. 

32.4 Kathryn and Roland 

"Yes, Roland. I'm here." She said still holding Alistair's eyes. As she heard Roland behind her, she reluctantly turned around. 

Roland appeared. "I need to talk to you." He sounded upset, perhaps even angry. 

"Of course." Kathryn said. 

"Am I interrupting?" He said but it was obvious that he didn't care if he was. 

"No, not at all." Alistair said. "I'll go… stand over there." 

Roland waited till he was out of sight and then turned to Kathryn. "Zevran told me you went to talk to the Crows." 

She had been expecting this. There was little if any point in even trying to keep any secrets in this camp. "That's not entirely accurate, they sent a note. We went to check it out and it happened to be one of the Crow Masters." 

"The one the boy gave you." Roland said. "You waited till I left to look at it." 

"I didn't know you were going to leave when I got the note. We were on our way to the Pearl, if you recall. I only looked at it later." She said. 

"Zevran also said that you agreed to help them." Roland said an accusatory note in his voice that was getting louder. 

"No, I didn't agree to do anything." She said sharply. "The Master had an offer of employment. I heard…" 

"How could you?" Roland asked incredulous. 

"I wasn't done!" Kathryn said trying to stay calm. "I heard him out. He wanted us to kill Paeden. I'm not above taking money for someone I killed for free." 

"I can see that." Roland said. 

"We need the money. You know that. We've been through this." She said. 

"We need money badly enough to take more jobs from them… assassinate people? Murder them?" He shook his head. "How could you? The stealing… fine. To take money from those who can afford to help us, I can look away from, but this?" 

"I didn't say we would do the jobs, but it benefits us to at least have them thinking we are helping them." She said. 

"They are trying to kill you." Roland said. 

"I know. Which is why it is better if they think we are on their side." She said. 

Roland looked at the ground again shaking his head. "You should have killed him. He is a murderer, worse, one that murders people for money. There is no excuse…" 

"What is the benefit of that? Then we will have the entire Crow organization after us. This way at least we can try to limit the danger we are in. We have enough people trying to kill us as it is." She said. 

"They might be after you anyway." He said. 

"And they might not. Zevran confirmed the Master's story." Kathryn said. 

"Why listen to him?" Roland asked. 

"You did." She said. 

"Even to pretend to be complacent in this…" Roland seemed nearly at a loss for words. "I understand the situation is desperate but…" 

"I'm not discussing this with you." Kathryn said. 

"What?" Roland asked shocked. 

"I said I am not discussing this with you. My decisions are not up for debate. It's done." She said angry. 

"Is this why you did this when I wasn't there, behind my back?" He asked. 

"I do not have to justify anything I do to you or anyone and I won't." She said. 

"What's that?" Roland asked. 

Kathryn nearly laughed out loud as it was the second time she had to point out the obvious. "It's a rose." 

"I can see that. Where did you get it?" Roland said the accusatory edge in his voice even sharper. 

"Alistair gave it to me." She said. "It was a rose he found in Lothering and he gave it to me as a gift." 

"Why?" Roland said. 

"He was trying to be nice. It has not been easy and he wanted to do something nice for me." She said. 

"Is that what he said?" Roland said with a snort. 

"Yes." She replied. 

"And you believe that." He said. "You know as well as I that a man does not give flowers to a woman he doesn't want to bed." 

"Roland! It is just a flower…" Kathryn said. 

"And why are you accepting flowers from other men?" He said. 

"He isn't another man… He's my… friend. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?" She asked. 

"Because it is a big deal." He replied. 

"You are blowing it way out of proportion." She said. 

"Am I? No, I don't think I am." He said. "Give it back." 

"What?" She asked not believing what she was hearing. 

"I want you to give it back to him. It is inappropriate for him to give it to you considering our relationship and you shouldn't have accepted it. Give it back to him." Roland said. 

"No." Kathryn said softly. "I'm not going to give it back. I don't want to. It is a nice gift, a sweet gesture and I'm not giving it back." 

Roland stared at her. "You have that little respect for our relationship." 

"And you apparently have that little respect for me." She said. Several moments passed until Roland turned and walked back to the fire. 

32.5 Zevran 

Zevran was quite pleased with himself. Figuring out a way to inform Roland of the episode with the Crow Master had been a stroke of pure genius on his part. And it seemed it had had the desired effect for just then Roland stormed back from the small pond and immediately sought out Alistair who was sitting by the fire. Zevran was interested to hear the conversation and slipped unseen close enough to overhear. 

Roland walked up to Alistair. Zevran could tell he was angry, much angrier than he would have expected because of the Crow incident. Something else must have gone on, he got as close as he dared to. 

Alistair stood up as Roland approached. Yes, Zevran thought something else is going on. 

"You gave her a flower, a rose, a red rose." Roland said barely containing his anger. 

Zevran's eyes grew wide. Alistair had given Kathryn a rose! Splendid! 

"Yes, I did." Alistair said, his voice calm. 

"Why?" Roland demanded. 

"Because I wanted her to have it." Alistair said. 

"You have intentions towards her. Do not insult my intelligence by saying you don't." Roland said showcasing a great amount of contempt. 

"All right, I won't." Alistair said still remaining calm in the face of Roland's rage. 

"Perhaps you do not know, but that is not how things are done, not how men with honor behave. Kathryn and I are together. It is inappropriate for you to be giving her flowers." Roland said. 

"Then maybe you should talk to her about why she accepted it." Alistair replied. 

Ah… Zevran thought… excellent answer! 

"She believes you are being nice. She has not much experience of men and does not understand your intentions, and you would take advantage of that." Roland said. 

Zevran had to admit, he had a hard time imagining anyone taking advantage of Kathryn. Unless, of course, she wanted them too, and that he could imagine and would… later. 

"I insist you stop your attentions to her immediately." Roland said. 

"I will, when she tells me to." Alistair said, voice still calm and even. 

"I warn you…" Roland started. 

"Do not threaten me." Alistair said low and with real menace in his voice. 

Zevran could see Roland's fury recede. Zevran knew that Alistair was a fine and fearsome warrior but never considered him dangerous, until now. That was the voice of a man you do not push. Zevran looked at the two men. He, no doubt along with the rest, was used to thinking of Roland as a knight, older and physically more overpowering, but apparently he had been fooled by the size of his weapon. 

Side by side, Zevran could see, Roland did have the advantage of height but not by much. Alistair, however, had broader shoulders, thicker limbs. Most likely if you weighed them, the measurements would be close and, Alistair might even have the advantage. There also seemed to be little doubt that these were all points that Roland was considering for the very first time. 

"That is her decision." Alistair continued. "I'm not fighting you or any other such nonsense. We have enough things trying to kill us, and it wouldn't solve anything." Alistair said low. 

"Do you think to take her away from me?" Roland asked. "We have known each other since we were children, loved each other nearly half our lives. Do you really think she would actually choose you…" 

"No." Alistair said. "No, I don't… but I have to try." 

Roland turned and disappeared into his tent. 

32.6 Zevran 

Zevran quietly stole back to his normal position by the fire. By the time Alistair even thought of him, he was back and acting like he hadn't heard a thing. Alistair sat back down by the fire and took out a book. Zevran approached the fire to make tea when he saw the title of the book. 

"One Hundred and One Antivan Nights! That is a most excellent book you have there." Zevran said with real enthusiasm. 

"You've read it." Alistair said. 

"Oh, yes. Several times, in fact. It is the most popular of all the 'Antivan romances' the standard for all such books." Zevran said. 

"Do women really like this stuff?" Alistair asked. 

"Lovemaking? Yes. I know it is said they do not but that is a myth. Women enjoy the act as well as men, and if done right perhaps even more so. Now there are some who do not but generally that is because they have had a bad experience or…" 

"No, I didn't mean that… exactly, but more the specifics. Some of the stuff seems a little… extreme." Alistair said. 

"Ah… well, yes, that is true. It is a book of fantasies not an instruction manual." Zevran replied. "From what I recall all the different positions work. But they are merely suggestions for one to consider. Then there are some things that are most pleasurable to think about but contain immense practical problems. For example, lovemaking on the beach, sounds romantic, yes? Until you get sand in places sand was not meant to be. Oh, and one piece of advice, my friend, never tear a woman's clothing, no matter how impassioned you or she is. Even if she begs you, trust me. You ruin her favorite outfit and you will never get her into bed again." 

"Right." Alistair said. 

"But truly, women are not that different from men. All wish to be desired, to be swept away by passion. They seek pleasure for themselves and their partners. How exactly an individual wants that, well that is different for each person, but in those pages you find nearly all the options. There is little doubt that contained in that book you will find something that enraptures and captivates you." Zevran said before turning into his own tent. 

32.7 Alistair 

Alistair thumbed through the book. There was one story, actually one passage in a story that he had read over and over. For it was his perfect ideal, exactly what he wanted, the very height of pleasure and fulfillment, the epitome of what the act should be. 

He opened the book to that page and read over it again. Then he took the book and carefully placed the book face down to the page, just inside Kathryn's tent. Then he quickly disappeared into his own. 

32.8 Kathryn 

Kathryn stayed by the pond till she had calmed down. She didn't want to risk an outburst or another encounter in front of the others. She thought about all that had happened but was too tired to draw any conclusions. She stood up and made her way to her tent. 

Inside the safety and privacy of her tent, she got undressed and settled down to sleep. Then she saw just inside the entrance off to the side, her book. It was open, face down. She picked it up. She could tell that this passage was well read and she figured must have been placed like this for a reason. Alistair wanted her to read this and to know it meant something to him. She settled in and began to read. 

"…way to the brothel in town. The group talked of how best to spend their funds and the acts for sale debating the merits of each one and their relative cost and worth. 

As they passed the old farmer working in his field, they hailed him. 

"Where are you boys off to?" He asked. 

"To the brothel." They called back. "You should come with us." 

"No, my dear boys. I have no need for such." He replied. 

"Your wife is as old as you, and nearly as wrinkled." One said. "Do you not wish a young beautiful girl to fulfill your every desire?" 

The old man laughed. "You seek pleasures that are gone in a moment and barely remembered the next. Girls with firm bosoms and long legs, willing to spread them for coin. I have a real woman, who is more to me than just pleasure, she is joy. You could give me all the whores in the king's harem but I would rather have my wife of these long years." 

"Mark my words, young lads, one day, if you are lucky, you will understand me. Until then enjoy your pleasures." He said with a wave of his hand. They continued on laughing at the folly of the old. As the old man chuckled at the folly of the young. 

He made his way to the house just as his wife entered, bustling about the activity at the market. Then she looked to him and said, "My dear husband, why do you look at me so?" 

"For my love, I have decided that I shall take you to bed this very afternoon." He said with a smile. 

"Have you, my dear? She said with a laugh. 

"Yes, I am so overcome with passion for you, I shall get nothing done until I do. I simply must have you." He said with a grin. 

"Have I no say in the matter? Do you just assume I wish to lie with you?" She asked. 

"I could ask, and if necessary I would beg upon my knees for your attentions, but it would take time to get down upon the floor with my bad leg and more to get back up. Time better spent in lovemaking, do you not agree?" He said. "Besides I know you desire me above all else." 

She laughed warmly and then said. "If you were not so handsome you would be insufferable, and if you were not right I would be cross, as it is… we waste time, come let us to bed!" She took his hand in hers. "Before I take you right here." 

Kathryn could not help but laugh. She placed the book beside her pillow turned to that page and placed the rose on top of it. She laid down looking at them both and smiling, fell asleep. 

Chapter 33: Eleventh Camp 

33.1 Alistair 

Alistair couldn't sleep and he needed to. They had finally returned to camp after receiving a promise from the new Dalish keeper of aid against the Blight. It had been a long and tiring process. The clan had been attacked by werewolves with many elves being infected by the werewolf curse. So, they had had to track the werewolves through the forest, getting the help of a talking tree by retrieving its golden acorn from a question spouting madman in order to get a magic branch so they could fool the possessed trees and enter the haunted ruins that contained the werewolves' lair to release a trapped forest spirit and free the werewolves and the elves of their curse. It sounded absurd to him and he had been there. 

Tomorrow they started for Haven, the village Brother Genitivi had been investigating when he had seemingly disappeared. They were due for at least a week of travel, probably more. 

But none of that was what was keeping him awake. He had given Kathryn a rose and not just any rose but the one he had found in Lothering and she had accepted it. However, when he got up the next morning, she and Roland were involved in an intense conversation and afterwards they seemed to be on very good terms. But even more upsetting to him was that she hadn't said more than a dozen words to him since then and was acting like nothing had happened. Part of it, at least he hoped part of it, was that Roland was watching her like a hawk. Alistair had tried to get her alone to talk to her but each time Roland interfered or was lurking just within earshot. 

And even more upsetting than that, was that this evening after dinner the two of them had disappeared to a private spot in the back of camp and had not returned by the time he had retired to his tent. Roland wanted to lie with her, Alistair knew that. And since Roland knew Alistair had intentions towards her, no doubt he wanted to more than ever. If for no other reason, and granted there were a lot of other reasons, than if Roland managed to get her in bed, well, that would be the end of Alistair's chance. Roland knew about women and probably how to get them into bed. From reading the book he could imagine all kinds of things they could be doing, and that more than anything was keeping him awake. 

Leliana and him had kissed, quite a bit actually, but it hadn't gone any farther than that. He hadn't touched her, well, not in any place… like that. Not that he hadn't thought about it. But the reason he hadn't was that when he thought of such steamy bits, he thought about Kathryn. Doing anything like that with Leliana almost felt like he was betraying Kathryn. Despite the fact that she was off doing Maker knows what with Roland. 

He didn't understand, after he had given her the rose, he thought… but maybe he had been wrong or maybe once she thought about it, she had decided she wanted Roland. He didn't know. It was no wonder he couldn't sleep. 

It was a warm night, unseasonable warm and his tent was too close to the fire. He needed some air, and maybe a splash or two of cold water, to cool off and calm down and then hopefully he could get some sleep. He got dressed in his breeches, boots and undershirt, stepped out of his tent, and made his way to the small pond on the edge of camp. 

33.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn was reading her book or trying to read it. Mostly she stared at the words on the page as her mind wandered over things she didn't want to think about, such as a rose in her pack and a passage in a book sixty-eight pages from where she was reading and a man sleeping in a tent not fifty paces from where she was, and she especially didn't want to think about the fact that he was probably naked or close to it. 

The morning after Alistair had given her the rose, Roland had come to her filled with sorrow, regret and apologies. He had begged to be forgiven for his behavior the day before. He tried to explain and promised to do better, be more open minded, to listen and consider, to trust her and believe in her, to honor her word and show her more respect. He said he had over reacted to the rose and that it was only his love for her and his fear of losing her caused by how much she meant to him and how much he loved her. 

The situation they were in was difficult and it was hard to have a relationship under such circumstances. He had asked her not to throw away their chance because of his stupidity. For all he had done and they had meant to each other, didn't she owe both of them another chance? It was hard to argue with what he had said. 

Then this evening Roland had asked her to walk with him out by the trees. They had talked and kissed. Normally a few tender kisses and holding hands was as far as went, but tonight he had wanted more. He had kissed her more intently than he had before and his hands had attempted to go places that she was not comfortable with them going and she had stopped him. 

It wasn't that she didn't want that, to be physical with someone, she did. She knew the pleasures it could bring. While she knew what being with someone entailed, a more detailed discussion had been waiting until she got married, but still she knew. Not from reading the book but from watching her parents, the looks that they gave each other the nights before and the mornings after. Then there was what she had read in the book, things that had excited and fascinated her, caused her breath to come quick, her heart to beat faster and sensations in places she was not accustomed to, but at those times she didn't think of Roland. 

She was confused and the more she tried to think about things, the more confused she got. She cared about both of them, but more than that she didn't know. She had drawn a line, limiting what she allowed herself to feel, that much she knew she could handle. She, and the rest of Thedas, couldn't afford to have her swept away by emotions she couldn't control, good or bad. At this point, it was hard not to be swayed by the feelings each called in her. But even at that, she knew those feelings were very different. 

It was easier to be with Roland. As things were, she felt comfortable and safe, cared for and content with him. When she thought about Alistair she felt… something else, she didn't really understand. It was just so much easier not to think about him at all. Except in the dark hours of the night, with nothing but the sound of the wind and the light of the fire to keep her company; then it was nearly impossible not to. Then it was difficult to ignore those feelings of longing that seemed to permeate every part of her. 

She let go of the page she wasn't reading and the pages flipped to the passage Alistair had given her to read. She knew it by heart now. It so reminded her of her parents, of the joy and love they had shared. She had always wanted that for herself. That this passage of all the ones in this book of fantasies, meant something to him, was important enough that he wanted her to read it, somehow touched her. 

She flipped through the pages, ones filled with love and passion, need and desire. Overpowering emotions, tender feelings, cravings and longings spilled out of the lines of text. Ecstasy and joy, loneliness and pain, fulfillment and pleasure contained in ink and parchment. Things she had read and heard about but never felt herself, had never allowed herself to feel perhaps. She closed the book. 

It was warm, too warm in her tent. She needed some air, to clear her head and then maybe she could get some sleep. She put on her leggings, undershirt, and boots and set out for the small pond at the edge of camp. 

33.3 Alistair 

Alistair wiped away the cold water, dried his face and neck and sat down at the edge of the pond. He took a deep breath of the night air. Yes, that felt better. He heard the rustle of someone approach. Not enough steps to be the dog, too light to be Sten or Roland, too soft to be Wynne or Morrigan, too loud to be Zevran or Leliana, so that left... Kathryn who emerged from the other side. 

She was dressed in only an undershirt and pants. He realized it was the first time he had ever seen her without armor on. The light leather armor she preferred was more form fitting than metal but now he could see that all the curves and muscles and other bits were actually her and not the armor. Given the current situation, he wasn't sure he wanted to know that. 

She looked up and seeing him was surprised but not unpleasantly so and smiled at him. All the air was forced out of his lungs. He would have thought he'd be used to her smiling at him by now. 

"Hello." She said. 

"Hello." He replied. She walked over and sat down next to him. He noticed that she still was not really looking at him, avoiding his eyes and intently watching the pond. 

"I wasn't aware you were allowed out without your chaperon." Alistair said more harshly than he intended. 

"No," She said. "He's just…" 

"…not wanting to give us a chance to talk alone." Alistair finished for her. 

She sighed. "Yes, that's probably it." 

"He didn't like that I gave you the rose." Alistair said. 

"No, not at all. In fact, he asked that I give it back to you." She said. 

Alistair swallowed hard. "Are you…going to give it back, I mean." 

"No," She said softly. "…and I told him so. He asked to be forgiven for his behavior, asked that I not hold it against him considering all he had done or throw away all we had meant to each other." 

"Guilt is a powerful incentive." He said bitterly. Roland really had pulled out all the stops. 

"It isn't…" She said and then stopped and sighed. 

Several moments passed before Alistair was finally able to ask. "Do you love him?" 

"What kind of question is that?" She stood up, turned away and took a few steps. 

"A fairly simple one, as questions go." Alistair stood and followed her. 

"I care for him, of course." She said over her shoulder. 

"Then let me ask you this…" He said and waited till she turned to him, waited till he had her eyes. "Do you have any feelings towards… me?" 

Her eyes got wide. "Do you?" She asked voice barely above a whisper. "For me… I mean." 

He took a deep breath. "I know we haven't known each other for that long, but I've come to… care for you. A great deal." He said. 

She looked in his eyes a long moment and then looked down. 

"I deserve an answer." He said. "After everything, I… I need to know." 

She looked back. "I…" She turned her head away. 

"And now I do." He said, finally understanding what people meant when they said their hearts were breaking. He had to get out of there. He turned and started to walk away. 

"No." She said, her voice not at all steady. 

He turned back. "No… what? No, you don't think so? I figured that much." He said. 

"No, not no… no." She said. "No… that's not my answer." 

He stepped back to her. "Then what is?" He asked. 

"I… it's not… no. I'm… sure it isn't no." She said. 

"That's not good enough." He said shaking his head. "You can't keep doing this, Kathryn. It isn't fair to either of us. You keep going back and forth, seemingly to whoever you talk to last. Is one of us just as good as the other?" 

"No. It isn't like that." She said. 

"Then who, Kathryn? You have to make a choice." He said. 

"I don't…" She said. 

"You do. You know. You have always known. You know what you want. You just can't admit it, at least not to anyone else, maybe not even to yourself." He said trying to keep reign on the frustration that was threatening to boil over. 

"You told me courage is a choice, well, so is strength. You don't think you have enough to bear the consequences of making a choice. Perhaps you don't think what you want is important enough, maybe because you don't care enough or it just doesn't matter to you either way." He said. "Would you rather the decision be made for you. We could fight a duel or flip a coin, which I'd prefer if it's all the same to you." He said. 

"That's not fair." She said. 

"Isn't it?" He asked. "You reproached me and not kindly either for letting others make my decisions for me. Told me I had to take responsibility for my life, that means bearing the cost of my decisions. That I should take a stand for what I wanted. Well, so should you. Whatever you do, whoever you choose, do so because it is what you want. If him or… then do so with conviction. Be able to take a stand and say that this is what you want." He looked away regaining some composure. "It's all I ask. All I want." 

He looked back to her, standing there just within his arm's reach, eyes wide, expression pained. There was something there, some feeling for him. He could see it in her eyes. It occurred to him this might be his only opportunity, his one chance. "Well, maybe there is one more thing I want." He said as he stepped towards her. 

Alistair touched her face. Her skin was warm and soft. His hand wrapped around her head feeling her hair through his fingers. He leaned forward, watching as she tilted her head up and closed her eyes. Then just as his lips were about to touch hers, he closed his. 

Kissing Leliana was like sweet red wine. Her kisses were soft, luxurious and rich. There was a rush of feeling and pleasure. They felt good and satisfying. They were fulfilling and made him feel warm inside, content and relaxed and a little lightheaded. It was exactly how he had always thought kissing would be, physically pleasurable and filled with tender feelings. 

Kissing Kathryn was like lightening. It shot through him. He felt the kiss through his entire body, seemingly every part of him reacted. The first gentle kiss full of tender emotion was quickly overwhelmed by more forceful ones filled with passion and a deep affection. His hand gripped her head drawing it to him. His other hand reached for her body, wrapping around her waist and pulling her even closer. The more he kissed her the more he wanted to. The more he touched her the more he needed to. The desire he felt got stronger with each kiss, a hunger that intensified with each touch. 

33.4 Kathryn 

Each time Kathryn had kissed Roland, she had felt a wave of emotions wash over her, feelings of caring, happiness and contentment. She had felt safe, warm and comforted. But those emotions had not moved her from the line she had drawn, had not come close to pushing her beyond what she had felt comfortable feeling, of what she could control. 

But as Alistair kissed her, she was swept away completely. Emotions flowed not over her but though her. She tried to stop them but couldn't and then realized she didn't want to. She felt alive. Her heart didn't break but burst open. As though it was unable to contain all she felt and was shattered by the force of it. 

She kissed him back, with passion and desire, caring and affection, and a depth of feeling she had never experienced. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to her, pressing her body against him, wanting and needing him, as she had never wanted or needed anything in her life. 

Then quite suddenly she was unable to breathe and turned away. She stepped back, desperately trying to catch her breath. More emotions began to pour though her, ones not of passion or affection but… sadness and grief. She covered her eyes with her hand, but it was shaking. 

"Kathryn?" He stepped forward. "What is it? Kathryn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" But she shook her head and then put both hands over her face. 

33.5 Alistair 

She was breathing hard and too fast, nearly gasping for air. She seemed to be in pain, in the grips of some sort of agony or… sorrow. Then he understood. This wasn't about him or Roland but her family. Somehow what they had done, had released her feelings connected with the attack. 

He knew she had not dealt with their loss. She had not had time or the opportunity. When it happened she was fighting for her life and afterwards there was the battle and the joining and she had been alone, surrounded by strangers. Then after the battle, his grief had been fresh. He had not been able to ignore it and she had taken over, allowing him time to deal with those emotions, while she had continued to push what she felt aside. Now her confusion made sense, she had been swayed by the feelings of others because she had not been able to feel her own. 

If she hadn't been able to hold herself together in the wake of the tragedy, she couldn't have fought her way out of the castle and she would be dead. But he knew it would kill her all the same. Eventually destroying her ability to feel anything at all, killing the person she was, replacing it with someone who looked like her but wasn't truly alive. 

She was trying to push those feelings back, trying to regain control of herself. But he couldn't let her. If she did, she would be numb again, lose all they had just shared. They had broken though only because she wasn't expecting it. He knew her. She would never let it happen again. 

He had been through this and he could try to help her through the worst of it. But she might hate him for it afterwards, for he would see her at her most vulnerable, at her lowest point. She may reject all he said and even if she accepted it and dealt with the grief, she may never forgive him for it. But he had to try. 

"Kathryn," he said low. "You think you aren't strong enough to bear the grief from losing your family, but you are. You can't keep pushing it aside. I know you had to at first, but you don't anymore. You think you will lose yourself, be destroyed by it, but you won't. You can do this, and you don't have to do it alone." 

He wrapped his arms around her. His hand at her head pulling it to his shoulder but she didn't move, acting as though she hadn't heard him at all. Perhaps he had misjudged, but he held tighter. Then without warning the strength in her legs gave out. He over balanced and they both fell onto their knees and then to the ground, but he didn't let go. Long moments passed and then gradually she allowed him to pull her head to rest on his shoulder. Her body slowly relaxed into his. He held her even tighter as she clutched his arm, buried her face in his shoulder and started to cry. 

Sobs wracked her, full of silent tears, angry and bitter. She was exhausted, weak and completely drained. Alistair felt the crying subside and then she raised up but didn't look at him. He gently stroked her hair. He realized that these might be the last moments he may ever have alone with her. It was his last chance he had to say something anything… to tell her… 

"Kathryn, it isn't over." He said gently. "The grief comes again and again but it gets easier. You get stronger and then the good feelings, the good memories come back. It takes time, just don't give up and know… you aren't alone." He touched her face stroking her cheek, brushing the hair from her face. He leaned forward just touching her head with his. "Kathryn… Kathryn, I… I lov…" 

She turned away, pulling free of his arms. She quickly stood and without looking at him ran to her tent. 

Chapter 34: Twelfth Camp 

34.1 Alistair 

Alistair thought that there couldn't be much worse than Kathryn basically ignoring him the way she had the past couple days but turns out he was wrong. She could actually ignore him. She had emerged from her tent, eyes red from the night before, and hadn't even looked at him all day. He would have thought it impossible for her to get through a whole day without speaking to him or even acknowledging his existence but somehow she had managed it. It was quite an achievement. He could have forced the issue but with Roland no more than five paces from her at any time, there was little point. 

What made it all the worse is that she was better. There was a light in her eyes, she talked and smiled and laughed more than she ever had before. Despite the red eyes, she looked good, full of life and spirit of which they had only seen glimpses of before. But apparently his worst fears had come true, for despite being the better for it, she wouldn't forgive him for making her face her grief, for seeing her at her worst, that vulnerable and that weak. 

Then of course he had nearly told her that he… loved her. He hadn't planned on that, hadn't thought it out beforehand. He had been caught up in the moment. Maybe he shouldn't have, maybe he said too much, scared her off. But the thing was, it was true. He did love her. He knew that now. Maybe he had always loved her and had convinced himself otherwise but somehow he had still known. He had opened his mouth, knowing he may never get another chance to say anything to her and that was what came out. 

Each time he closed his eyes, he thought about kissing her, holding her, how it felt to have her arms around him. It was so much worse now that he knew what he was missing. 

Each time he looked at Kathryn he wanted to shout 'Why are you punishing me like this? How can you just ignore what happened? Do I mean so little to you that you can just shut me out like this?' but he knew he couldn't and in all likelihood he would never know the answers. He knew she cared for him but she was choosing to disregard those feelings, and it was killing him. 

After they made camp, he had to get away from them and fled to the small stream close to camp where he only had his own misery to keep him company. That and whoever was approaching, which proved to be Leliana. 

"There you are. Are you all right? You look horrible." Leliana said. 

"No, I just don't feel well." Alistair said. 

"Should I get a potion from Wynne?" She asked. 

"No, it's not that." Alistair said. “I’m fine, just tired.” 

She sat down next to him. "I was going to show you the ballad I was writing, 'The Knight and the Lady' about Kathryn and Roland." Alistair had to smile. The Maker really did have a sick sense of humor. "But," Leliana continued, "I realized you really wouldn't enjoy it that much, considering that you're in love with her." 

Alistair looked to her. "No… I… I…" He then let out a sigh. "It really is that obvious, huh?" 

"Well, yes. You're not very good at being subtle." Leliana said with a smile. 

"No, that's not my strong suit." He took a deep breath. "Leliana, I'm sorry, I…" 

"No, do not be. I'm not. You cannot help how you feel and I think that we both knew this wasn't forever. But it was good for me. After Marjolaine, I didn't know if I'd ever get involved with anyone ever again. You were exactly what I needed to remind me how good it can be." Leliana took Alistair's hand. "I do hope that this was good for you too. You are a wonderful person, Alistair, and I will always be here for you. I hope very much that things work out for you." 

"Thank you. You are an amazing woman, Leliana. And I do hope you find someone who can make you happy." Alistair said. 

"You know, if it is meant to be then it will find a way." Leliana said chipper. 

Alistair looked at her and smiled. "I'd like to believe that but I know better." He said. 

"She cares for you. It is no doubt difficult for you to believe, but she does." Leliana said. 

Alistair looked away, shaking his head. "Even if that's true, that doesn't mean things will work out for us." He said. 

"No, it doesn't and somehow you'll have to learn to live with that." She squeezed his hand and then stood and walked away. 

Alistair watched her disappear. He was alone, completely alone… again. He would think that by now he'd be used to it, that he'd learn not to care, know better than to even hope. He had lost any chance with Kathryn and he'd lost his best friend. In addition to the fact that he had ruined a friendship with Roland and spoiled any chance he might have had with Leliana. He was alone. 

The truth of his situation began to sink in. He loved Kathryn, loved her, and he knew, knew for absolute certain, that he would never love anyone else, not like this. He would never kiss or be kissed like that again, never hold or be held like that again, never feel the way he had felt for those few moments with her. 

It was like he had found a part of himself he didn't know was missing. He had felt whole, complete and now he felt empty inside and knew nothing could ever fill it. There was this horrible, hollow ache right through him that was nearly unbearable. 

He hadn't even though it was possible for him to feel that way about anyone. Now he knew it was but he had lost his chance, missed his opportunity to be happy. Before there had at least been the possibility of it, there had been hope, but now even that was gone. 

And then there was something worse, so much worse. For in those few moments he had felt something more than love or passion or desire or affection or any of those things. He had felt something he had only ever had a hint of before when he was with the Grey Wardens… with her he had felt like he had… come home. 

His vision blurred and then cleared. He set his jaw and fought it becoming blurred again, and lost. He brought his knees up to chest, placing his arms over them and rested his head on his arms, and let his vision blur and then clear and blur again. 

34.2 Alistair 

"Alistair?" He heard Kathryn say. He looked up and there she stood. She smiled at him, but this time it didn't feel like getting punched in the chest but more like his heart was being ripped out. Her ignoring him was better. They still had to work and fight together and for the sake of the Blight, he'd have to pretend nothing had ever happened between them. 

"I wasn't…" He started but his voice wasn't steady. He cleared his throat and tried to regain some composure. "I wasn't sure you remembered my name." He said. Yes, that sounded better. 

"Of course I remembered." She sighed. "I…" 

"Does Roland know you're here?" He asked not letting her finish. "I don't need him threatening me again." He said bitterly. 

"Yes, he does." She said with a slight smile that seemed out of place. 

She took a deep breath. "I... I just wanted to thank you for the other night. What you did for me, what you said… I am very grateful for it. I'm glad that you were there." She said with real warmth. 

Some of Alistair's anger and bitterness faded. "Well, you're welcome. I just wanted to help." 

"I know." She said. "I also wanted to tell you that you were right… about everything." He looked up to her. "I did need to make a choice. It wasn't fair to you, to either of you, and I am sorry. I needed to make that choice based on what I wanted, what I truly felt, and that I needed to have the strength to make it with conviction and bear the consequences." She took a deep breath. "Well, I have made a choice." 

"Yes, I thought you had." He said standing. He needed to get away before he did or said something he'd regret. 

"And you were right about one more thing. I have always known who I wanted, who I needed to be with." She said. 

"Good. I'm glad for you… and him. I am." He said. 

"I believe I have known it ever since I saw you at Ostagar. Well, at least, I suspected then, was pretty sure by the time we got back from the wilds and definitely knew by the time we arrived at Lothering." She said. 

"Yes, well, that's… um… what?" He said looking at her. 

She smiled. "But I had to be sure for all our sakes. After the other night, I was finally able to feel again, really feel... and I had to be sure about what I felt for him and for you. I needed to know for certain what I wanted and make a choice because that was what I wanted and no other reason. I owed that to both of you. And I... needed a little time and space to think and just sort through it all. That's why I didn't talk to you, couldn't even look at you because then all I could think of was you and…" 

She looked down and took a couple breaths and then looked back to him. "I told Roland that we had owed it to ourselves to see what was there for us and there was something. I care for him and always will but I'm not that person anymore and that... wasn't what I wanted. So that's done." She said. "So, now I can stand here and say with conviction that I... I want you. I need you and I want to be with you. I want us to be together and I want that more than I've ever wanted anything." 

Alistair took a deep breath and then another deeper one. He looked into her eyes and swallowed hard. "This is part where I kiss you, right?" He said breathless and with a tentative smile. 

"Yes," she said with a laugh. "This is the part where you kiss…" Alistair had taken the two paces between them in one stride and took her in his arms and kissed her hard and then harder, holding her tight and then even tighter. 

Finally out of breath, he pulled back and looked at her. She smiled at him and this time it didn't feel like his heart was being ripped out or like he had been punched in the chest. It felt like his heart was overflowing and threatening to burst and it felt... good. He touched her face, stroking her cheek and then kissed her again and again and again. 

34.3 Roland 

Roland was sitting by the fire, starring into it but not seeing it or anything at all. Leliana walked up and sat down next to him. "I figured you might need some company, yes?" 

"You could probably use some yourself." He said. 

She shrugged. "I always knew that we were not meant to be, as they say, but it was good for me and I have no regrets and wish them the best with a full heart." She said. 

"You are a better person than I." He said. "Maybe one day, I hope, at least, but... I keep thinking there was something I could have done or done differently, but I'll be damned if I know what it is." He said. "I guess on some level I knew, you know, that I was losing her. If I hadn't I wouldn't have tried to hold on to her so tight, and I would be more surprised, wouldn't I?" He looked to Leliana who smiled weakly. 

"It is difficult for me to believe that, in a way, because I felt so sure about us. Sure that this was why I had survived and why I had found her." He stopped and after a few moments said. "Do you think that some people are meant to be together?" 

"That some are picked by destiny, fated to find each other?" She sighed. "As romantic a notion as that is and as much as it appeals to the storyteller in me... no, I don't." 

"I can't help shake the feeling that if he... if she hadn't met him... we could have been happy." He said. 

"That's probably true." She said. 

"You're not helping." Roland said with a slight smile. 

"Oh, I wasn't finished." She said. "But even so, she never would have loved you the way she loves him. There are people who need to be together. Who complete each other." She said. "And there are loves, the ones that bards like me sing of, but never think we'll actually see. Loves that are so powerful, true and pure, that once they begin they cannot be hidden and will not be denied." 

She looked thoughtful. "Perhaps what they have is one. And if so, it may be given to them because so much has been asked of them, and so much more will be asked of them before it is over. Maybe because without it, they may not be able to do what is required of them." 

"But if so, do not envy them their happiness, for in all the stories of such loves, there is a terrible price to pay for it." 

34.4 Kathryn 

Kathryn leaned back, resting her head on Alistair's shoulder. He rested his head against hers and wrapped his arm around her as he took each of her hands in his. It was an intimate embrace, especially considering they had been together mere moments, but she didn't care. 

They had kissed and kissed and kissed some more until they were unable to continue, and were now sitting listening to the sounds of the night. 

"Is Roland going to be all right?" Alistair asked. 

"I think so. He's hurting right now, but he's strong." She said. 

"He's isn't going to try to kick my ass or anything, is he?" Alistair asked. 

"No, I don't think so." She said with a smile. 

"You know, you never asked about Leliana." Alistair suddenly realized. 

"Well, you didn't seem overly concerned yourself. Besides she's fine with… oh… um…" Kathryn said. 

"You talked to her, didn't you? After she talked to me… or was it before?" Alistair asked. "You did! You got her to end things, didn't you? You got her to end things, so you could have me all to yourself." 

"Well, it would have ruined the moment if I said all that and you had to go talk to her in the middle of it. It was more convenient this way." She said. "Besides it wasn't like she didn't already suspect. You never even tried to bed her. So she figured you either preferred the company of men or were in love with someone else." 

"Right, because I couldn't just be a gentleman." He said. 

"You could be but there is a difference between restraint and disinterest." She said. "She figured it was more the latter than the former." 

"Well... I do wonder how you managed to convince her to end it so easily." Alistair said. 

"Oh, I paid her off." Kathryn said. "A few silvers and she was ready to drop you like a hot potato." 

"Well, at least I was worth a few silvers." He said. 

"Actually, it was a lot less. I was trying not to hurt your ego." She said with a laugh. Alistair smiled. She turned to look at him. "I like seeing your smile." She reached up and brushed his lips with the back of her fingers. "I missed seeing it these last days. It wasn't easy you know, not talking to you, but I had to be sure." 

"When did you know… that you wanted… this?" He asked. 

"When he kissed me. I realized that he would never kiss me the way you had and that I would never kiss him the way I had kissed you, that he would never hold me as you had. That I would never feel the way I felt when I was with you with him or with anyone else, and I didn't want to think about going through the rest of my life and never feeling that way again." She said. "That and it came up tails." 

"You flipped a coin?" Alistair asked. 

"Well, you said you preferred that over fighting a duel." She replied. "Would it make you feel better if I told you I had to flip it five times to get it to come up tails?" 

"Yes, some." He replied and then smiled. 

"Then of course there is the fact that you are an excellent kisser." She said. 

"Am I?" He said, unsure if she was kidding again. 

"Yes, even Leliana was impressed and she no doubt has kissed her fair share... probably more." She said. 

"She was." Alistair said pleased. "That's good to know. But the real question is, are you impressed?" 

"Well, I wouldn't say that, even though it's true, for there is always room for improvement." She said. 

"Ah, perhaps I just need more practice." He said reaching up and tracing her lip with his finger. 

"Well, it isn't like we have anything better to do." She replied. "Like fighting darkspawn." 

"There aren't any here and they can wait. I had to wait long enough for it." He said leaning towards her and gently pulling her head to him. 

"You know something else?" He said his lips nearly touching hers. 

"What?" She said. 

"You talk too much." 

Chapter 35: Thirteenth Camp 

35.1 Alistair 

Alistair awoke the next morning happier than he had ever been in his life. Then he had the terrifying thought that perhaps the conversation with Kathryn the evening before might have been a dream. It was such a sudden and dramatic turn around, to go from being completely alone to having what he wanted more than anything else in the world. It was at least incredible, perhaps improbable and maybe even impossible. 

Right before she had spoken to him he had put his head down on his arm. It was possible he had fallen asleep, dreamed the whole thing and then sleepwalked to his tent. He had been suffering from a bad headache the entire day. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more probable that scenario seemed. And he had to admit, much more his luck. 

He got up and after packing his few things stepped out of his tent. The morning light was just beginning to turn the night to dawn. He usually got up early, a habit from templar training. Only Sten and Wynne were about. He said good morning to Wynne and started making breakfast, keeping a nervous eye on Kathryn's tent. 

As the dawning light began to cast soft shadows, she emerged. He held his breath and concentrating on stirring the pot. He didn't know if he could take finding out it had only been a dream. One thing he had learned, it was much worse to know what you were missing. She walked over to where he was and knelt down beside him. 

"Morning." She said low with a warm smile. 

He let the breath out with almost a laugh. "Good morning." He said relieved. 

"Is something wrong?" She asked. 

"No, it isn't." He said. "I was just thinking that maybe last night… with us had been a dream." 

"That depends on what you dreamed happened last night." She said and then smiled. "Dare I ask?" 

"Oh… no… nothing like that… well… at least not last night." He said. "I mean where you said you… wanted to be with me and we kissed… a lot." 

"Oh, that. Yes, I remember that too, especially the kissing part." She said and then looked thoughtful. "Of course, we might have just had the same dream… in fact, we still could be having it. Remember the sloth demon." 

"That's true." He said. 

"I know how to tell. What's for breakfast? Because if this is a dream I would dream of having a plate full of Orlesian type pastries, apple and pear and raspberry with a glass of crisp white wine and some of that strong black tea with cream in it." She said wistful. 

"Porridge." He replied. 

"Then this isn't a dream. Although if we are still eating your cooking, it might be a nightmare." She said. 

"You know, I don't see you offering to cook. In fact, why don't we eat your cooking for a while, that'd be good for a laugh." He said smiling. 

"Or food poisoning." She said chuckling. "No, I think not. I do want us all able to fight and not stuck in the latrine. Besides you cannot eat something that does not exist. I am a noble lady. Do you think I have ever cooked anything in my life? I boiled water for tea once and I burnt that. So, no, please continue. I just like giving you a hard time about it." 

"Is this the kind of treatment I can expect from you from now on?" He asked. 

"Oh, no, no, no… usually I'm much worse." She said. 

"Well, I know of one way guaranteed to shut you up. How long till I get to kiss you again?" He asked. 

"Probably quite a while." She said sadly. "Traveling all day today, got a long way to go. So several hours, at least. Probably not until we make camp for the night." She looked serious. "I want to be discrete, very discrete." 

"Because of Roland?" He asked. 

"Not only because of him, it's just inappropriate, tacky and in bad taste to be doing that in front of people." She said. "Besides I am in charge, much harder for people to take you seriously if they see you getting groped by someone." 

"I… haven't… groped… anything." He stammered. 

"Not yet." She said with a smile. 

He smiled. "You know I'm not sure I can make it all day without kissing you." 

"Show some of that iron discipline of yours." She said. "Of course, if we do happen to find ourselves out of the sight of our companions… but probably not be an opportunity since right after breakfast I have to go back by the stream to look for my journal. I can't leave without it." 

"You mean the journal in your hand right now." He said. 

"Yes, that is exactly the one I mean. I am sure I left it by the stream but don't remember where, probably take me a bit to find it. Oh and I wanted to tell you I'm sure I saw something of yours out there too. You might want to go out there and check, sometime after breakfast, perhaps." She said with a smile. "Until then I'll leave you to your cooking, wouldn't want to burn it. Although come to think of it, that might be an improvement." She stood and walked away. 

After breakfast, and after taking a few minutes to look for his charcoal pencils out by the stream, which as it turns out were safely tucked away in his pack, the group got ready to leave. 

He was somewhat unsure what to do. Kathryn was and had always been in the lead when they traveled. After Lothering, he and Roland had walked immediately behind her with the rest following them. When Kathryn and Roland were together, Roland had walked beside her while Alistair had stepped back to walk next to Leliana. But today as they set out, Roland took a position between Leliana and Wynne. 

Kathryn made her last check of the camp site and picking up her pack walked to the front. She looked back to him. "Are you coming?" She asked. 

"Yes." He said. He walked to the front, taking his original spot. She looked at him and waited until he took a position next to her. It was such a little, subtle thing but somehow it made him even happier than he had been and filled him with a sense of, what he could only think to call, pride. Then they started out. 

35.2 Wynne 

Wynne was in the habit of rising early. She was not the young woman she once was and moved slower than she had for it took a while for her old joints to limber up enough to keep up with the youngsters around her. 

As she gathered her things to prepare to leave, she saw Alistair emerge from his tent. He looked better but a bit anxious. Yesterday he didn't look well at all. She had nearly asked him a half dozen times if he was alright. But she had noticed that for the past few days he and Kathryn had barely spoken, and Alistair had looked miserable. She figured that had more to do with his current state than any physical problem. 

She knew something had to be very wrong for them not to speak, for the two of them were very close. It was obvious that they were good friends, they worked well together, fought well together. He had blossomed under her leadership and friendship. She encouraged him and he had become more confident and at ease with himself and others. While it was clear that despite his age and her relationship with Roland, it was Alistair's opinion, judgment, support and friendship that she relied upon the most. He was slowly becoming more and more of a partner to her. 

While that would seem to be a good thing, she suspected it may not be. Wynne could see the way Alistair looked at Kathryn despite his relationship with Leliana. Kathryn was much harder to read. She kept her thoughts and feelings mostly to herself but while she was with and very fond of Roland, she laughed more with Alistair. 

As Alistair made breakfast, she saw Kathryn emerge from her tent and walk over to where Alistair was and talk to him. She was glad, but also concerned. They not only seemed to be on good terms but on very good terms. She hoped she was just imagining things. But as they left camp it seemed she had cause for concern. Roland didn't take his normal position next to Kathryn but one close to her and Leliana. While Kathryn waited for Alistair to assume a position next to her. That didn't bode well. At the very least, it seemed Roland and Kathryn were no longer together and the fact that Alistair was walking with her and not Leliana told worse. She would watch and hope but she was afraid things had taken a dangerous turn. 

She had seen this before and without fail it never ended well. Many times at the tower, she had seen exactly this scenario. Two young apprentices would be brought to the tower and being thrown together in an unfamiliar and sometimes intimidating and even hostile environment, they would develop a bond. One of support and of comfort and many times they would come to believe themselves to be in love. Over and over, she saw such fragile and unlikely bonds and the harm they caused. Their training and study would suffer, at times even their health would suffer and on so many occasions when the time came for them to take the harrowing, because they had not focused on what they needed to, they would fail. It was a tragedy she had seen replayed over and over, but in their cases their misfortune only affected them. 

She felt she had to speak, to make them aware of the potential for disaster and tragedy not only for the two of them but for everyone. 

35.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn was making her rounds. She made it a point each time they made camp to talk to all her companions, to see how they were, if they needed anything and to give them a chance to talk to her in private if they wanted. At times, long conversations were the result with others no more than a quick assurance that all was well with them. 

Leliana nearly always told a story, sang a song or played her lute after supper. Kathryn was going to talk to Wynne, and while Leliana entertained them, she would play a match with Alistair and after they would find a quiet spot out of sight. 

Speaking of such, she looked over at Roland. She hadn't said much to him, deciding it better to leave him alone for a while. He seemed sad but alright. Leliana had said she would look out for him when they had spoke. After she had talked to Roland last evening, she had gone to talk to Leliana. Before she was able to say much of anything, however Leliana told her that she could see that Alistair was in love with her and volunteered to step aside, even suggesting that she talk to Alistair first, to clear the way for them. She wished them the best with a full heart, and Kathryn could tell she meant it. Kathryn had asked her to look after Roland and she said she would. 

She walked over to where Wynne was sitting. Wynne looked up and as Kathryn approached said gently but with an accusatory edge. "You're quite taken with each other, aren't you?" 

Something in her tone caused Kathryn's guard to go up. "I take it you mean Alistair? In which case, yes I am. I do not presume to speak for him but I think he is also." 

"I've noticed your blossoming relationship, and I wanted to ask you where you thought it was going. Alistair is a fine lad, skilled in battle, but quite inexperienced when it comes to affairs of the heart. I would hate to see him get hurt." Kathryn picked up the note of warning in her remark, apparently Alistair's fondness and concern for Wynne was returned. 

"You really think I would ever hurt Alistair?" Kathryn said. 

"Not intentionally, no." She replied seriously. "But there is great potential for tragedy here, for one or both of you. You are both Grey Wardens and he is the son of a king. You have responsibilities which superseded your personal desires." Wynne said. 

"I am fully aware of my responsibilities and my duty. I do not see how my relationship with Alistair affects them." Kathryn said. 

"Love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person, who may fully occupy one's mind and heart, to the exclusion of all else. A Grey Warden cannot afford to be selfish. You may be forced to make a choice between saving your love and saving everyone else, and then what would you do?" She asked. 

"What I have to, whatever I feel is necessary." Kathryn said sharp. She considered and then asked. "Are you trying to persuade me that I should end this with him?" 

"You may have to, to save one or both of you unnecessary anguish later on." Wynne replied. 

"Unnecessary anguish?" Kathryn said. 

"Nothing is certain, not in these times. You cannot take anything for granted. I want you to be aware of this." Wynne said. 

"And what makes you think I am not? That we are not?" Kathryn said angrily. 

"I am just trying to minimize the suffering that may come to either of you." Wynne said softly. "There is great potential for tragedy here." 

"Believe me I am aware. If you have forgotten I have lost my entire family. All of the Grey Wardens are dead, betrayed and murdered. In addition to the fact that our lives are at constant danger from darkspawn, bandits, soldiers, and assassins." Kathryn said. "But just because there is risk does not mean it is not worth pursuing." 

Wynne looked down and sighed. "Perhaps this is one lesson that cannot be taught. I have given my advice. Do with it what you will." 

"Well, I thank you for your concern." Kathryn said quickly and walked away. 

35.3 Leliana 

Leliana finished playing her lute. Given the circumstances she wanted to stay away from any songs or stories regarding love and that severely limited her selection, so she decided to play instead. She put the lute away and cast a glance towards Alistair and Kathryn who were finishing up their game. 

Watching them warmed her heart. It was so obvious how much in love they were, how happy they were together. Her relationship with Alistair had been good for her and she hoped very much it had been good for him too. That and seeing the two of them now, had restored her damaged faith in love, and she wished them the best with all her heart. She looked over to Roland who was busy repairing his armor. They had talked last night and long today. She felt confident that he would recover and would no doubt love again but it would not be easy and he was far from over the worst of it. 

She sat down looking for her notebook in which to record the recent events. She saw that Wynne was also discreetly watching the couple. She caught her eye and said low. "Aren't they adorable?" 

Wynne looked at Leliana with a bit of surprise. "I would have thought you'd be more upset about the situation." 

Leliana smiled. "Oh, no. I cannot begrudge anyone their happiness or finding love. Besides I always knew we were not to be, but it was good for both of us, I think." 

Wynne then gently asked. "Don't you think that this might be a very bad thing for them to be together? They have a responsibility, a duty. So much depends on them. They cannot afford such a distraction." 

"Oh, yes, you are absolutely right!" Leliana said with mock horror. "They should think of that duty constantly, wallow in the overwhelming responsibility and not allow themselves to forget for a moment how the fate of the entire world rests on them. In addition to the fact that they can expect no assistance from the other Grey Wardens, how they must fight a blight and a civil war, and about the sheer numbers of people trying to kill them." 

Leliana continued. "They should not seek out or even take a moment to rest or enjoy themselves or be happy but should be serious and grave at all times. They definitely should not find comfort, support or companionship in someone else, especially not someone who shares and can understand that great responsibility. In fact…" 

"All right, yes. I see your point." Wynne admitted. "But comfort, solace, friendship is one thing. Romance is another. Love is ultimately selfish. It demands devotion to a particular person who will fully occupy one's thoughts and feelings, to the exclusion of everything else. Such selfishness is something neither they nor any of the rest of us can afford." Wynne said. 

"You don't really believe that!" Leliana said. "That selfishness is the ultimate nature of love?" She said in disbelief. "Wynne, you are not so cynical that you actually think that could be true." Leliana asked her chiding. "No, that is not the love I know. I know of a love that is giving. Where you give all and expect nothing and because of that you receive all. Love that encourages, supports, that wants the best for the other, not one that is demanding, but patient, kind and generous." 

Leliana looked at the couple and then back to Wynne. "Can you not look at them and see that they are better off together? That the happiness and joy they have in the other gives them courage and strength to face what they must, to do what they have to. She has given him confidence and courage to be himself, to stand up for himself, a belief in himself he didn't have before. And she...she is there for all of us, giving us comfort and hope, helping us, supporting all of us, but who is there for her? Who does that for her? He does. She has not stepped out of camp without him at her side. He is her foundation, her support, the one she relies on, while all of us, the world in fact, relies on her." 

"That is the love of the old tales, a true love, the kind of love that endures, that can face and conquer all things. The kind we all want and hope for and even pray for, even if we are not strong enough to bear it. It is a beautiful if terrible thing." She said. Wynne looked at the ground, sad and thoughtful. 

35.4 Kathryn 

After finished their game, they took a walk around the edge of camp. They found a spot by some trees out of the way, quiet, and without a line of sight to any of their companions. As soon as she was sure they were hidden from view, she turned quickly and kissed him, hard and fast, and then slow and gentle, and then again and again. 

As they continued to kiss, she ran her hands along his shoulders and chest and down his arms, feeling the muscles through the heavy undershirt and grateful he had removed the armor. She felt his hands wrap around her waist, run up along her sides and down her back. As he did, her breathing got quicker, heart beat faster. 

She turned to catch her breath, he continued kissing her chin, she turned her head exposing her neck and jaw, after a moment's hesitation he began kissing along her jaw and then down her neck, and then along her collarbone and then past it, one kiss and then another slightly lower. 

He stopped, resting his forehead against her chest and drawing his hands into fists. She could tell he wanted to do more and was fighting that impulse. After a couple breaths, and the battle with himself won, he looked back up to her. 

"I'm sorry." He said. 

"For what? Stopping?" She said out loud and then thought to herself that she was sorry he had stopped. 

"No. Not that I want to… stop. But that's not what I was sorry for… It was for… before that. I… don't want…" He said flustered. 

"You don't want?" She said confused. 

"No, I don't mean… I don't want… I do… want… but I don't want… to do… more than you... want…" He said cautiously. "I don't know what you have… and I don't want to…" He said quickly. "I just… I don't know what I should…" He looked down and took a deep breath. "I haven't… done anything like that... and I don't want you to think I think you're… like that… not that I mind if you are… I just…" 

He turned around walking a few paces away and rubbing his forehead and then back of his neck with his hand. "You know can we just pretend I didn't say any of that, and I'll try to resist the impulse to stick my foot in my mouth." 

Kathryn had to smile but tried not to let him see. "It's all right. I understand." 

"I… I just… heard that noble ladies don't do stuff like that before…" He said. 

"True, at least, that's the official story. A lot more goes on than you'd think. It's all about being discrete and not getting caught. It's all that about your reputation and making a good match. I didn't care much for all that, Mother was much more concerned. I never did anything like that, but that's because I never found anyone I wanted to do anything like that with." Kathryn said. 

Alistair looked thoughtful and then said. "Your parents… they would not approve of this… of us… of me. If they didn't like you becoming involved with a knight-to-be from a noble family, they really would object to an orphaned commoner, the bastard child of a serving girl." He looked to her and then continued. "And if you were honest you would admit that in any other circumstances you wouldn't condescend to even look at me." 

"No, I have to say that in most any circumstance I would at least look at you." She said with a smile. He smiled back. "As a potential match for their daughter… the fact that you are a Grey Warden without two coppers to rub together would not thrill them." She could see the disappointment on his face. "But as a man, as a person, they'd love you. You'd have fit right in at the castle, trust me. If you ever meet Fergus you will understand the truth of what I say. And as a warrior, someone to fight besides me to defeat a blight and stop a civil war, someone whose daughter's life is in their hands nearly every day... believe me when I say they would be ecstatic beyond measure with you." 

He stepped back up to her and brushed her cheek with his gloved finger. She looked at his hand. "Speaking of hands, why are you wearing gloves?" She took his hands and started unbuckling them. 

"Well, I…" He said looking uncomfortable. 

"What? You have to admit it is better without them." She asked. 

"Yes, but… I… it's just…" He started and then looked down. 

"I've seen them before. I know they aren't burnt or that you're not missing a finger or anything." She got the first glove off and immediately began to work on the second one. 

"No. But you didn't look… it's just they aren't…" He said. 

"What?" She asked still struggling with the second glove. 

"They aren't what you're… used to." He said embarrassed. She looked at him confused. Then finally she got the second one off and taking both of his hands in hers, she looked at them for the first time. 

Now she understood what he meant and his reluctance for her to see them. They weren't what she was used to. She was used to seeing nobleman's hands, ones accustomed to holding jeweled goblets, gently taking a lady's hands to their lips, and wearing gloves of fine leather or silk. 

He had the hands of a warrior and not a knight's either. For even compared to Roland's hands, his were different. She could see where his fingers had been broken, the scars and calluses from wielding a sword and shield. They were tough, strong hands. Ones that as a child had scrubbed pots in scalding hot water and washed in icy cold. Hands that had done work and not easy work either. His life, a hard, commoner's life, was all there in his hands. 

She could tell he was ashamed of them, at least ashamed for her to see them. They emphasized what he had said. She was a noble second only to royalty on the social strata and he was about the lowest, barely considered a person. In any other circumstance, hands like his would never touch her, never be allowed to touch her. 

She felt them over, running her fingers over every callous, feeling the healed broken bones, tracing all the scars. "No, this isn't what I'm used to seeing." She said. "I'm used to noble's hands and these are the hands of a warrior." She said looking him in the eye. "These are the hands I trust with my life every day, the ones I want to... hold me. These are your hands, all of what you are and have been. They are beautiful hands." 

She took his hands, and brought them up to her lips and kissed them, kissed each callus and scar. When she was done, she looked to him and said. "I don't care what is supposed to be, or should or shouldn't be, what is proper or accepted or any of that. I only care about you. The rest… well… we'll figure out as we go." 

He smiled. "I think I can handle that." 

"Good." She said. She took one of his hands and placed it on her waist and the other one at the side of her face. "...and since it seems you have extricated your foot from your mouth… kiss me already." 

Chapter 36: The Sacred Ashes Part I 

36.1 Roland 

Roland put his bedroll and few personal belongings inside his tent. The last few days had been trying. Kathryn had ended their relationship, saying that while she cared for him and always would, this… with him... wasn't what she wanted. It was hard for him to believe it had happened, difficult for him to accept and nearly impossible for him to understand. He respected her decision, he had no choice, but it still hurt more than he ever would have thought. 

It just seemed so perfect, a tale for the bards. They had grown up together, fallen in love, he had gladly risked death so that she could escape and now they had a chance to finally be together… and it wasn't what she wanted. Not that he wanted her to stay with him because of their past or out of some misguided sense of gratitude or even guilt. He wanted her to stay because of him, because she cared for him, but all that… should count for something. 

He could not believe that she would choose someone else. He wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. In a way he felt that he had lost her to him, like it was some sort of competition, which he knew it wasn't. He felt he could be the person she wanted if he had known, if she had given him the chance. Of course, while it may be true that he could be that person, the fact was Alistair already was that person. Besides Roland wanted to be loved for who he was. He shouldn't have to be someone else, but that didn't get him Kathryn back. 

It was difficult to watch them together. Not that they were indiscreet or even overly demonstrative or anything like that, in fact, that might be better. No, to see the looks and touches, see the smiles and all the other little things they shared. Things that he and she hadn't. Each one of those little things felt like a stab to his heart. 

He had seen all the signs but simply couldn't comprehend that he could lose her. He had seen how the two of them had talked and laughed together, how they fought and communicated, how they had danced. He had thought that she wasn't acting the way she should be, not showing their relationship and him the proper respect. In truth, what had bothered him was that she wasn't acting like someone in love, at least not like someone in love with him. 

He had thought that she was the reason he had survived and now he felt somewhat lost. But there was still the blight to contend with and while he was not an actual Grey Warden, he had been recruited into the order and if they failed in their mission, none of this would matter. He could still contribute. He could still fight. 

Kathryn walked up to him. "Get ready. I need you to come with me to investigate the village. Alistair is also coming. That's not going to be a problem, is it?" 

"No." Roland said. 

"Good. We leave soon." Kathryn said and then walked away. 

36.2 Alistair 

Alistair looked up the mountain. They were heading for the small trails of smoke that indicated a village. The trip wasn't easy. The path at times became only wide enough for one person to go at a time and meandered back and forth. 

He wasn't upset that Roland had come with them. In fact, it was a good thing, for if the attack at the tavern by Lake Calenhad had been any indication, whoever they were likely to meet were violent and heavily armed. They needed him. However, he also knew that right now he wasn't Roland's favorite person. Roland was a good man and a professional soldier. He was aware that stopping the civil war and the Blight was much more important than their personal quarrels but Roland was human and Alistair figured he should keep that fact in mind. 

36.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn held her breath as they slowly, calmly and quietly walked past the high dragon on the mountain top. They had found Brother Genitiviti and learned that the Ashes were held in the temple up the mountain. They had fought their way through the cultists until they found their leader, a fanatic who thought that the dragon was the reincarnation of Andraste. They were forced into a confrontation and defeated him. 

They had emerged from the temple to the mountain top and seen the dragon in question and were now carefully making their way past it to a different part of the temple. She was finally able to breathe once they were inside again. This part looked different than the rest. As they turned the corner they saw a man standing in front of the doorway. 

"I bid you welcome, pilgrim." The man said with a voice that echoed in the chamber. 

"Who are you?" Kathryn asked. 

"I am the Guardian, the protector of the Urn of Sacred Ashes. It has been my duty, my life, to protect the Urn and prepare the way for the faithful who come to revere Andraste. I am all that remains of the first disciples." The Guardian said. 

"How is it possible you have lived so long?" Kathryn asked. 

"I made a vow, to Andraste and to the Maker. My life is tied to the Ashes. As long as they remain, so will I. For years beyond counting have I been here, and shall I remain until my task is done and the Imperium has crumbled into the sea." He replied. 

"The Imperium is no longer as powerful as it once was." She told him. 

"Ah… is it not? Then perhaps this is the beginning of the end…" He said wearily. 

"I am here for the Urn of Sacred Ashes." Kathryn said. 

"You have come to honor Andraste, and you shall, if you prove yourself worthy." He said. 

"So how do I prove that I am worthy to you?" She asked. 

"It is not my place to decide your worthiness. The Gauntlet does that. If you are found worthy, you will see the Urn and be allowed to take a small pinch of the Ashes for yourself. If not…" He said. 

"What is the Gauntlet?" She asked. 

"The Gauntlet tell the true pilgrims from the false. You will undergo four tests of faith, and we shall see how your soul fares." He said. 

"Very well. We will enter the Gauntlet." She said, not like they had much of a choice at this point. 

"Before you go, there is something I must ask." The Guardian said. "I see that the path that led you here was not easy. There is suffering in your past – your suffering, and the suffering of others." He looked at her, seemingly through her for a moment and then continued. "You abandoned your father and mother, leaving them in the hands of Rendon Howe, knowing he would show no mercy. Do you think you failed your parents?" He asked. 

She took a deep breath. She didn't want to answer him, to admit out loud what she thought but being silent would prove nothing since he already knew her answer and they had come too far to risk being turned away. "I… know I failed them." She said. "But not then. If I would have stayed, it would have accomplished nothing, except that I would also be dead. They wanted me to live, insisted that I go, to warn Fergus, to get vengeance for those who died, to fight the blight. There was nothing I could have done then, but…" She looked down and swallowed hard. "I should have known something was wrong. There were signs. I should have figured it out… but I was so disappointed that I was being left behind..." She stopped lost in memory and regret. "Even if I couldn't have stopped the attack… I could have saved them, if I had only realized what was going on sooner." 

"Thank you. That is all I wished to know." The Guardian said. 

"You are too hard on yourself." She heard Alistair say to her. "No one's perfect. I know you think you should be, that you should know everything, be smarter and better than everyone else, but you're not, at least you can't be all the time and you can't blame yourself for what happened because you're not." 

"And what of those that follow you?" The Guardian said. "Alistair, knight and Warden… you wonder if things would have been different if you were with Duncan on the battlefield. You could have shielded him from the killing blow. You wonder, don't you, if you should have died, and not him?" 

"I… yes." Alistair said. "If Duncan had been saved, and not me, everything would be better. If I'd just had the chance, maybe…" 

"You can't think that! That... you should have... died!" Kathryn said incredulous. 

"I don't think, I... I know that's true and so do you. If he were here instead of... things would be better." Alistair said. 

"No, I..." She glared at the Guardian and then turned back to Alistair. "Even if… that isn't how it works, you don't just trade your life for his. If you had been on the battlefield, then you would be dead as well. You couldn't have saved him. There was nothing you could have done." She replied. 

"You don't know that." Alistair said. 

"Don't I? None of them survived. Don't you think that once they saw the battle was lost they would have escaped to continue the fight, that they would have saved Duncan if they could have?" Kathryn said. Alistair looked away. "They got caught in the trap meant to kill Cailan, there was nothing anyone could have done. If Cailan hadn't insisted that you and I go to the tower we'd be dead too." 

"If Cailan..." Alistair said. 

"Ask your question, Guardian. I am ready." Wynne said. 

"You are ever the adviser, ready with a word of wisdom. Do you wonder if you spout only platitudes, burned into your mind in the distant past? Perhaps you are only a tool used to spread the word of the Circle and the Chantry. Does doubt ever chip away at your truths?" The Guardian asked. 

"You frame the statement in the form of a question, yet you already know our answers. There is no sense in hiding, is there? Yes. I do doubt at times. Only the fool is completely certain of himself." Wynne said. 

"Roland Gilmore, Knight of Highever… You wonder if the deaths of those you were sworn to protect were due to your own carelessness? You question why you survived when those you would give your life for died instead?" 

"That's enough!" Kathryn said. "He did all that could be asked of anyone! Whoever is to blame it isn't…" 

"It's all right, Kathryn." Roland said and then turned back to the Guardian. "Yes, I wonder if somehow something I did or didn't do allowed the attack to happen and if somehow I could have prevented their deaths, if I could have saved them. I don't understand why I survived but I trust the Maker has a purpose for me." 

"The way is open. Good luck, and may you find what you seek." The Guardian said and disappeared. 

36.4 Wynne 

Wynne was glad that was over, having someone peer into your heart and mind was too unsettling. After the Guardian disappeared, they entered the first room. Along the walls were apparitions, ghostly figures that turned out to be those from the life and death of Andraste each with a riddle for them to solve. 

Once they had correctly answered them all, the door at the other end of the room opened. Through the doorway there was a man standing there, facing away from them. As they approached, he turned around. Wynne could see he was an older man, about her age, still strong in body, mind and spirit with a presence about him. One that commanded respect and even obedience but was also warm and gracious and bespoke of a quiet strength. There was something familiar about him, then Wynne realized where she had felt that same sort of presence before. 

"My dearest child…" The man said, his voice weary and filled with sadness. 

"Father?" Kathryn said, surprised and wary but hopeful. 

"You know that I am gone, and all your prayers and wishes will not bring me back." The apparition of Teyrn Cousland said and smiled sadly at Kathryn. "Pup… I know you miss me, but no more must you grieve, my girl. Take the pain and the guilt, acknowledge it, and let go. It is time." He said soft but firm. 

"You have such a long road ahead of you, and you must be prepared. Set your eyes on the horizon, do not look back, and do not falter." He said resolute. He smiled at her and then took her hand and put something into it and then held her hand in both of his. "I leave this is your hands… I know you will do great things with it." He smiled sadly at her, reaching up and brushing a stray hair from her forehead. "Now go, and carry with you all my love." He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead and then he was gone. 

Kathryn stood for a moment with her eyes still closed and then opened them and looked in her hand at the amulet the apparition had placed there. She swallowed hard and looked up to the ceiling, blinking her eyes, breathing hard and fighting to maintain her composure. 

Wynne could barely imagine what Kathryn must be going through. She looked over to where Alistair was. She could tell that Alistair wanted to comfort her, but he was unsure as to what to do. This was what Wynne had been afraid of. For while they may care about each other, they were too young and immature to be able to help and support the other through all they would have to face. Roland knew her better and no doubt would know what to say to help her through this. 

She regretted saying anything to Kathryn about her relationship with Alistair for given how that had gone, Kathryn would be unlikely to accept comfort from her now, even though she needed it. She was about to gently suggest that Roland say something to her when Alistair approached Kathryn. He waited till she looked at him and then he smiled at her, reaching up to touch her face, brushing her cheek with his thumb or perhaps wiping away a tear. She reached up and took his hand and pressed it to her lips. She took a couple deep breaths and regained enough of her composure to give a weak smile to him. She nodded and they began walking to the next room. 

Wynne was… surprised to say the least. She had not expected that, not imagined them to be capable of anything like it. Apparently, Alistair didn't need to know what to say to her, for he had not needed to say anything. It was a tender and beautiful moment between them, a powerful and healing one. Wynne was affected by it despite herself. She had thought they would be like the apprentices at the tower, children playing at emotions they didn't understand, but perhaps that was not the proper analogy. Perhaps she had misjudged them, perhaps… she was wrong. 

36.5 Kathryn 

The four of them walked into the next room. Four ghostly being ran towards them weapons drawn, two male warriors, a female rogue and a female mage. As they got closer, they seemed very familiar. 

"What in the Maker's name!" Roland said as he drew his sword. 

"It's… they are… us!" Alistair said as he got set for the attack. 

"How are we supposed to defeat ourselves?" Roland said. 

"I think that is the point." Wynne said. "We need to figure that out and quickly." 

Kathryn looked at the visions of them. This was a test, she told herself, there was a trick to this, and if they were to survive they had to figure out what it was. She looked at the vision of Alistair and then at the man before her. The vision was different. It looked younger somehow. It did look like him but not as he was now, it looked like Alistair... had when she met him at Ostagar. She looked to the apparition of Roland and saw that it didn't have the scar on it's forehead. These weren't them as they were now, but as they were before all this began. Her and Roland before the attack. Alistair and Wynne before the battle. None of them were the same person they were then, and that was how they would win by understanding how much they had changed. 

Kathryn yelled out. "It isn't us!" 

"They sure look like us." Alistair said as the ghost figures got closer. 

"But us from before. We are different now, better. That's how we beat them!" She said. 

36.6 Alistair 

Alistair looked at the specter of himself and saw the truth of what she had said. Not only was his hair longer but he had a different look about him, carried himself differently, felt different now. 

He knew he had changed in the time since Ostagar but he hadn't been aware how much. Looking at the person he had been not a year ago, he realized that he liked the change in him, that he liked the person he was turning into. But he also realized that this being, this version of himself was still with him, still lurking in the deep corners of his mind and heart, still holding on to fears and doubt and still whispering those to him. 

He hadn't changed completely, he could fall back to that if he wasn't careful. He was becoming someone, perhaps even the person he wanted to be but he wasn't there yet. 

36.7 Roland 

Roland looked at the apparition of himself. It didn't have the scar he bore from the attack, true, but the difference was much more than that. It was the look in the eyes. This being was still full of ideals, of belief, of innocence, of hope and of life. He could barely remember how that felt. It had not experienced the pain he now felt, did not even know it was possible. It had not experienced the sorrow and loss he had and it did not bear those scars either. It was nearly painful to look at it and realize the man he was now and know he would never be that man again. 

36.8 Kathryn 

Kathryn looked with something akin to pity at the vision of the girl she was, knowing all that child would have to face and how ill prepared she was for it. But it is said the hardest, sharpest steel is made by the most intense fire. She knew that she could never go back to that person, to that life, she had changed too much. 

Looking at the apparition, it didn't feel like looking at a version of herself but at another person entirely. She understood that Father was right, as he always was… it was time to let go, set her eyes to the future and not look back, to embrace who she was and to do that she had to let this girl, the girl she had been, die. 

"Alistair!" Kathryn yelled. "Wyn… Mage!" 

Her voice shook Alistair out of his private thoughts and gave him a focus. "Right!" He replied as he smited the ghostly Wynne. 

Kathryn pulled out her bow, notched an arrow and leveled it at the specter of Wynne. One good shot should take care of her. This was something she couldn't have done before. As she aimed she saw the ghostly figures attack Alistair and Roland. She smiled as she saw that the apparition of Alistair had no chance against the real one. 

The specter had all of Alistair's talent and his nearly flawless technique and while the real Alistair had refined his skills, what made the difference was the boldness, daring, and aggressiveness Alistair displayed that the specter simply didn't possess. The ghost of her was no more than an annoyance to him. She let the arrow go knowing it would find its mark. She turned back and saw with concern that Roland was struggling against the apparition of himself. He had suffered after the battle but had long since recovered. Then she saw that it wasn't a lack of skill or strength. Roland was displaying a reluctance to fight his double, as though he did not have the heart to strike this version of himself. 

"Roland, get on Ali… the templar! Keep him busy and don't let him touch Wynne!" She called out. "Alistair... the knight!" 

Alistair bashed the specter of himself to the ground. He looked confused but turned and called out "On it." as he attacked the apparition of Roland. Roland backed away from the vision of himself as Alistair attacked it from the flank. The ghost of him turned to face Alistair as Roland turned and attacked the specter of Alistair. Her own double stayed on Alistair. 

She ran up behind the shade of Roland and began attacking him. It weakening, its focus and concentration disturbed, then there was a opening and Alistair ran the apparition through. He turned quickly to face the shade of her, who had pulled out a bow and retreated to the other side of the room. 

"Get her. Remember she hasn't met you." Kathryn said as she grabbed her bow. The apparition had Alistair in its sights and was already taking aim, but Kathryn was faster, with better aim and a steadier hand. She let the arrow fly before her double was ready to fire. 

Kathryn dropped the bow and turned to see that Roland was starting to gain the upper hand on the specter of Alistair. Sword and shield has an advantage over two handed but Roland's skill had made up the difference. Kathryn knew Alistair, knew how he fought. She attacked. Roland was patient and waited for his chance and then ran his sword through the apparition with a powerful thrust. 

36.9 Roland 

Roland thought that being able to expend some of the frustration and anger he felt for the real Alistair against this shadow version, would make him feel better. But it didn't. For the thing about anger is that the more you expend on others the more there is. 

He knew Alistair was a good man, and an honorable one. His only fault was that he loved Kathryn and was willing to fight for her and for that he could hardly blame him, since he was just as guilty of that himself. And yet he still watched with not a small amount of animosity, as the specter fell to the ground, its eyes glass over and the life bleed out of it until the apparition disappeared. 

36.10 Alistair 

Alistair rushed the shade of Kathryn staring down its drawn arrow, trusting that it would never get a chance to fire it and it didn't. He saw Kathryn's arrow hit the apparition, interrupting its shot and giving him time to get to it. 

Kathryn's double countered his attack but he knew Kathryn better than this shadow did and much better than this specter knew him. And as Kathryn had said, there was something else, something that this version of Kathryn didn't know and he knew it didn't know. 

He attacked, letting it deflect his sword as he brought his hand up and punched the shade in the chest. The apparition couldn't defend against it and staggered back. He followed up the strike and countered the moves he knew Kathryn would make and then with only the slightest hesitation he ran it through. 

He watched its face as he pulled the sword back, watched the expression of surprise, turn to one of pain, then of fear. He watched the life drain out of this shade of Kathryn, watched as a vacant stare came over its face, watched as the specter collapsed to the ground and then disappeared. 

Chapter 37: Sacred Ashes Part II 

37.1 Kathryn 

They had figured out how to make it across the phantom bridge and entered the chamber containing the Sacred Ashes. They all stood in awe for several moments and then turned their attention to a wall of fire separating them from the urn containing them. As they got close they could all feel the intense heat radiating from the wall. Roland and Alistair went to look at the wall of flame, while Wynne looked around the area they were in. Kathryn examined the alter before them and read the inscription. 

Alistair walked up to her. As he stood next to her she pointed to the inscription. "What do you make of that?" She asked him. 

"Well," He said considering. "I guess they want us to… wait, you don't think that they actually want us to… you know… do that. Do you?" 

"Yes, I do." She said. 

"Apparently Andraste only favors the clever and the unabashed." He said. 

Wynne walked over to them looking at the inscription in question. "Dear Maker!" 

"What are you all talking about?" Roland said turning back from his inspection of the fire. Kathryn indicated the inscription. 

"Ah… that can't mean that, can it?" Roland said. 

"Well, if you have a better idea I'd love to hear it." Kathryn said. 

After several moments, he admitted. "No, I don't." 

"Yes, well, neither did he." Kathryn said indicating an armored man completely burnt at the steps to the urn. "So… off with the armor then." 

They all started taking off their equipment. Kathryn looked over at the two warriors and then turned to Wynne. "They need help or else we'll be here all day waiting for them to get out of that armor." She sighed and then reluctantly said. "You help Alistair and look at his wrist. He said it's fine but it isn't." 

Kathryn walked up to Roland. "How's the knee?" She asked. 

"Fine." He answered. 

"Do you need Wynne to look at it?" She asked. 

"No, it can wait till we get back to camp." He said. She took his hand and started unbuckling the gloves. "I can do that myself." He said as he pulled his hand back. 

"Yes, but it will take longer. I want to be out of here before that dragon wakes up from its nap and decides it's hungry." She said taking his hand again and starting to unbuckle the glove. 

"I'd rather you didn't." Roland said. 

"Well, I'd rather we didn't have to do this at all but we do and the quicker we get the over with the better and that means me undoing the buckles and helping you with the chestpiece. So stop wasting time." She said. 

She did the first glove and then the second. She looked quickly at his hands. They were strong hands. The calluses were in different places than on Alistair's hands due to the different weapon disciplines. Also his hands weren't as rough, fingers hadn't been broken, nor were his hands as scarred. 

She put the gloves down, and moved around him quickly unbuckling the arm plates and shoulder guards and removing them. She unbuckled the chest piece and together they lifted it off his shoulders, leaving him in his undershirt, greaves and boots. 

"You're good at that." Roland said. "Had a lot of practice, I take it… in the last few days, taking a man's armor off." 

Kathryn laughed. "Seriously, that's the best you've got. If you were going to lash out at me for breaking things off with you by insulting my character or virtue, I'd figure you could come up with something better than that." He looked down ashamed despite himself, then back up to her. 

"Do not play this game with me, Roland. I don't have the time nor the inclination." She took a deep breath and then continued. "I know you are hurting and I wish things had worked out differently and I'm sorry…" 

"No, you're not." Roland said. "I can look at you and see you don't wish anything of the kind and you're not sorry. You're…" 

"…happy." She said. Roland looked down. She continued. "I am sorry that you're hurting, that was never my intent and I do wish things could have worked out so you wouldn't be. But you're right. I don't wish things were different and I'm not sorry with how things are. I'm happy, Roland." He forced himself to look at her. "Is that what you want me to say? Well, I am. I'm happy with him. There I said it. But there are bigger things at stake here. And I'm still in charge. So you keep your snide comments to yourself and if you cannot deal with the situation, then… you are free to leave. Am I understood?" She said. 

"Yes… ser." Roland said. 

"Good. No doubt you can handle the rest yourself." She said, turned and walked away. 

Kathryn walked over to where Wynne was struggling with Alistair's glove. The first one was off and Alistair was holding his injured hand out and still, allowing the healing magic to work on it. "Been a while since you had to help a man out of their armor, huh?" Kathryn said to Wynne. 

Wynne looked up. "Apparently so. My hands aren't as nimble as they once were." 

"I'll get it." Kathryn said. 

"No, I'll manage." Wynne said reluctant to allow Kathryn to help Alistair undress. 

"Wynne." Kathryn said. "The point is to get this all done as quickly as possible. Go and get ready and I'll help him." 

As much as Wynne didn't want to let her help him, she knew an order when she heard one. She let go of Alistair's hand and walked over to the side and began preparing. Kathryn took Alistair's hand and began unbuckling the glove. 

"Exerting your authority all over the place, aren't you?" Alistair said. 

"Don't you start." She said. "Roland is being an ass and Wynne is trying to chaperon and I don't need either." 

"True. But I must admit watching you bark out orders like that… very commanding and rather… hot." He said with a smile. "More so with the male warrior than the older female mage. Although considering she can fireball you into the next age does get you a few extra points." 

She smiled at him. "How is it you can make me smile no matter what?" 

"It's a talent. Besides someone has too." He said. 

"You all right?" She asked. 

"Yes, wrist is fine. I nearly got my arm ripped off though, pulled my shoulder again. But it'll wait till we get back to camp." He said. 

She put the gloves down and started on the rest. As she got to the side straps on the chest piece he jerked. "Hey, careful! I'm delicate." He said. 

"Please… wait, you're not ticklish are you?" She asked. 

"I… don't… think so." He said unsure. 

"Well, that's good to know." She said. Several moments passed as she undid the rest of the buckles. 

"Are you… I mean…?" He asked. 

"What? Ticklish?" She replied. 

"No… not that… happy?" He asked. 

"Yes, I am." She said with a smile. She helped him pull the chest piece off and set it in the floor. He was left in his greaves, boots and a heavy undershirt. 

"Do you need help with the shirt?" She asked. 

"No," He said rather quickly. "I've got it. Thanks." 

Kathryn looked at him suspiciously and crossed her arms and said. "Take it off then." 

"What?" He said. 

"Go on. Try it." She said. He took a deep breath and tried to pull the shirt over his head, but his shoulder wouldn't cooperate. He couldn't raise his injured arm high enough to pull the shirt off and after some painful struggle, he stopped trying. "Now, will you let me help you?" She asked. 

"All right." He said with a sigh. 

Kathryn had seen him without a shirt before albeit at a distance, and while he was impressive, this wasn't the most romantic of situations. She figured she could handle seeing him like that without issue. 

Alistair raised his good arm up over his head. Kathryn held her breath and stepped up to him, taking hold of the bottom of the shirt and pulling it up past his shoulder, over his head, off his good arm and finally completely off him. 

Kathryn dropped the shirt. It was suddenly very warm in the chamber, her cheeks felt flushed, her heart was beating fast and she had to remind herself to breathe. She could see he was embarrassed and self-conscious although she couldn't see why. She wanted to say something, something light and funny to put him at ease and diffuse the tension but she couldn't think of anything. She tried to look away knowing staring at him wouldn't help but all she could do was stand there eyes wide with her mouth slightly open. 

"I can get the rest." Alistair said without looking at her. 

"Right." Kathryn said in little more than a whisper. She turned away and then quickly turned back to him. 

"Yes?" Alistair asked. 

"Oh, I... I don't actually have anything to say. I just wanted to take another look at you because… I mean... you're... just... damn… and I was hoping I would think of something to justify me turning back around, but I didn't. So... Wow. Did I just say that out loud?" She said mortified. She swallowed hard and then turned away again but immediately turned back. 

"Oh, I thought of something. It is pretty lame as such things go but since you already know it's just an excuse for me to stare at you, it doesn't really matter does it?" 

"True… but it would be more convincing if you actually looked me in the eyes when you talked to me." He said smiling. 

"Yes, it would, wouldn't it?" She said as she forced her eyes upwards. "I don't have to worry about you trying to take a look at me, right? You were raised to be a gentleman." 

"No, trust me that's about the last thing I want to do." He said. 

"Oh…" She said surprised and somewhat disappointed. "That's… good… I'm glad I… don't have to worry about that." 

"Not that I don't want to… you know… look at you, but if I looked at you now… well… it would just make things a lot more awkward than they already are." He said. 

Kathryn looked at him confused. "How would that make this more awkward?" She asked curious. 

"Um… don't worry about it." He said staring at the floor. "But… if you do happen to… well… you know… it is cold in here." 

Kathryn looked at him even more confused now. "What does that have to do with anything?" She asked. 

"Nothing… nothing… nothing at all. I… I'll just be quiet now." He said embarrassed. 

Kathryn, now thoroughly confused, turned and walked a few steps and started getting ready. 

37.2 Alistair 

After supper, Alistair found Kathryn on the outskirts of camp watching the sky and fingering the amulet she had received from the apparition of her father. As he walked up to her, she turned and smiled a weak and sad smile. 

"Rough day, huh?" He said. 

"Yes, most definitely." She replied. 

"Are you all right?" he asked. 

"Fine." She said although not very convincingly. "You act like seeing a vision of my father would be upsetting or something." 

He walked up to her and put his arms around her, holding her tight. She put her head on his shoulder and held onto him. After several moments, he pulled back and took her hand. He took several steps to a soft mossy spot and sat down, pulling her gently to him. She sat down, leaning against him with his arms around her. 

Several moments passed and then Kathryn began. "Howe's men were delayed. So Father sent Fergus with the army on to Ostagar, while he would wait for Howe's men to arrive and leave in the morning, which is no doubt what Howe's men were actually waiting for." She said. 

"When the attack happened, I was asleep. Drake woke me up barking. I had never heard him so angry... One of the servants burst through the door, asking for help and saying that the castle was under attack. He died in my doorway… Two of Howe's men entered my room. Drake and I killed them. It was the first person I had ever killed…" She said distracted. 

"By then Howe's men were everywhere. Mother and I fought our way through the castle, till we got to the main hall. Roland was there. He had managed to close the gate, preventing the rest of Howe's men getting through. I begged him to come with us but he wouldn't. He said the gate wouldn't hold and he was right, it wouldn't. I only made it out because he stayed." She said. 

"Father was outside the servant's entrance. He was… bleeding to death. I didn't want to admit… but there was nothing to be done for him. Duncan arrived right after we did. He said that Howe's men had surrounded the castle but hadn't discovered this exit. It was our only chance to escape. Father begged him to take Mother and I to safety and he agreed as long as he gave his permission for me to join the Grey Wardens." She said. 

After a few moments, she continued. "I know why he asked Father. He knew I would want vengeance on Howe before anything and he wanted me for the wardens. Father said I should join them, do my duty, and I said I would, for him." She took a deep breath. "Mother… she said we had a better chance to escape without her. Father tried to… but she had that voice that said her mind was made up. She wouldn't abandon him. Even though he was dying and it would be her death… she said her place was with him, at his side to death and beyond, she wouldn't leave him." She said wistful. 

"Afterwards I was so angry at her, for staying, for deserting me, leaving me alone to tell Fergus, to fight the blight, to take vengeance on Howe, to take back Highever. I… I didn't understand, not then." She said. 

Alistair rested his head against hers. Several moments passed. Then he asked. "Why did he call you 'pup'? I mean… I would think with your name, be more likely to call you 'kat' or 'kitten' or something." 

Kathryn smiled and said. "As the story was told to me, when I was little and only barely able to walk, I would follow Father everywhere, all around the castle. The servants and soldiers started referring to me as 'Bryce's puppy'. Father overheard them and from then on I was 'pup'." 

"So, the two of you were always close then." He said. 

"Yes, I am very much like him. My father's daughter." She said. 

"Then he must have been an incredible person." He said. 

"He was." She said as her lip began to tremble. 

They watched the stars and the clouds pass over the sky. Here in the relative safety of camp, with her safe in his arms, he thought about the gauntlet about the ghostly figures they had to fight… and about watching 'her' die. They were in constant danger and that could happen for real at nearly anytime. He didn't know if he would survive it. After Ostagar, when he had found out Duncan and the others were dead, he had fallen apart. In time and because of her, he had recovered but if he lost her… he didn't want to think about continuing on without her. He wouldn't even want to try. He would have no reason to. 

He realized that he understood why her mother wouldn't leave her father, even knowing it would be her death. He wouldn't want to leave Kathryn under those circumstances, under any circumstances, in fact. This was his place with her and he didn't want to be anywhere else… ever. 

"Can I ask you something?" Kathryn said. 

"Of course." He replied. 

"And will you promise that you'll answer me?" She asked. 

"Yes… I'll try my best to anyway." He replied. 

"Why would you looking at me without armor on make things more awkward than they already were?" She asked. 

"Ah… um… well… hmmm…" Alistair said embarrassed. 

"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, if you don't want to answer…" She said. 

"No… I… how do I explain this…" He said. "If I… saw you like that it would cause… no, that's not… um…" He took a deep breath. "Let me start over… generally when someone is… undressed… or more if you see them undressed… you are… well… probably you are… going to… you know…" 

"Lick their lamppost?" She said coy. 

"Yeeesss… and…well…" A look of dawning horror began to appear on Alistair's face. "Wait… you do know what happens when people do that, right? Like what happens to men…" He asked in a near panic. 

"Yes, I know about that… what happens to men, yes." She said. 

"Oh good." Alistair replied, relieved. He took a deep breath and continued. "So, if I saw you like that I couldn't help but think about doing… that with… you and… well, thinking about doing that with someone makes you get ready to do that… physically ready... even if you know you aren't actually going to." 

"OH!" She said surprised. "I didn't… you mean you don't control that? Tell it to do… that when you want it to?" She asked. 

"No, it sort of does that on its own, whenever you… think about doing that." He said. 

"Oh, I didn't… yes, that could be awkward." She said thoughtful. She considered the implications of what he had said. "So, would seeing me undressed be the only time you would think about doing that with me?" She asked. 

"Um… well… no, there are... other times." He admitted. "I think about that… whenever I… look at you… or think about looking at you." 

"But you look at me a lot." She said. 

"Yeesss…" He replied. 

"So, you think about that… doing that… with me… a lot?" She asked. 

"Well… yes." He answered. 

"And so that… happens a lot?" She asked. 

"Uh… yes." He said. 

"Oh." She said and then looked thoughtful. "Do you think about doing that whenever you look at any woman, or think about looking at any woman?" She asked. 

"No, not… no… just you." He admitted. 

"Oh." She said. 

Several moments passed. "Does that bother you?" He asked. "That I think about that... with you… a lot." She looked thoughtful. He continued. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable… you know… around me, just because I'm thinking about that." He said. "You might not want to or want to wait for sanction and that's..." 

"No, I don't care about that, not now, but I do want it to be... right, you know." She said. 

"Yes, I know." He said. 

"You haven't done that with anyone but that's because you never had the opportunity, right? You would have if you'd had the chance." She asked. 

"No, not really. At the monastery, sure. But I was in and out of Denerim for nearly six months before we got called to Ostagar and there is a brothel nearly everywhere. So, I could have, but I… I didn't want to do that. I know many do, especially the first time, but it just wasn't for me. I wanted it to be someone… you know… important." He said. 

"Oh…" She said thoughtful. "No, it doesn't bother me… that you think about that... with me." She said. "It's not like I've never thought about doing that… with you. I mean… the first time I saw you without a shirt on…" 

"Wait… What… what first time? You mean that wasn't the first time!" He said. 

"Oh, no… Wait, I don't mean no, it wasn't… I mean… no, it was… the first time." She said quickly. Alistair looked at her eyes wide. "Not being very convincing, am I?" She said. 

"No, you're not. What first time?" He said. 

"Well… I… you see…" She stammered. 

"Kathryn, what first time?" He said. 

"It was purely innocent, truly it was." She said. He looked at her impatiently. She continued. "You remember when you first hurt your shoulder at the tower." 

"Yes…" He said. 

"And then when we got back to camp, you went to soak in the pond." She said. 

"You didn't?" He said more amused than upset. 

"I was just wanting to see… if you needed help, I mean… you know, with the armor. You'd been out there a long time. And when I got there… you were already standing in the naked… I mean, water… so I… left..." She said flustered and embarrassed. 

"Right… and I'm sure there is a very good reason why I didn't hear you call out before you got to the pond to let me know you were approaching." He said. 

"Yes, there is… I… forgot to call out." She admitted. 

"You forgot!" He said in disbelief. "You expect me to believe that!" 

"Expect… no, not expecting you to believe that at all… hope, yes, most definitely hoping you'd believe that, however." She said. 

"You're telling me that you followed me out to the pond knowing I would be in no more than my small clothes perhaps less with the intent of seeing me like that, and me injured and everything." He said with mock disgust. "I am shocked and dismayed." He said biting back a smile. 

"Well, yes… but… I… I… have nothing to say." She said mortified. 

"So… you saw everything." He said. "Cold water and all…" 

"No, no, no. I only saw from the waist up, that's all. I promise. I didn't… I wouldn't…" Then she looked at him curiously. "What does cold water have to do with anything?" 

"Don't change the subject." Alistair said. "How did you know I was… you know… naked if you didn't see everything?" 

"I just hoped… I mean… I just figured that you would be… with the water… and all." She said and then smiled. "So, you were actually… naked then." 

"Well, yes... with the water and all." He said. "So… you approve?" He asked. 

"Of you being naked… definitely." She said. "You should do it more often." 

"So does seeing me like that… make you think about doing... that with me?" He asked. 

"Well, yes." She said. 

"But not just looking in general." He said. 

"No, not really…" She said considering. "Although when you're… close to me, I sometimes think about that." She said. 

"Really," he said with a slight smile. "So that does it for you? Me just being… close." 

"Yes." She said. 

"But I'm close to you all the time." He said with a smile. 

"Yes, well, not just close… really close." She said. 

"So, like this close?" He said pulling her closer to him. "Does that do it?" 

"Yes, it does." She said slightly breathless. "And then, of course, the kissing parts do to." 

"I see. You know, I think it completely unfair that you've seen me in little more than my small clothes and I haven't seen much of anything of you." He said. 

"Are you saying that you didn't look at all today? Didn't take even one small peek? Didn't glance over for just moment?" She asked. 

"No, of course not! I'm a gentleman and very disciplined!" He said with mock offence. "Besides you were facing the fire, so even if I had I wouldn't have seen anything anyway, no more than just a shadow of you. But… I… have to say… if I had just seen a shadow of you… that would be… wow!" He said breathless. 

She smiled and leaned in close to him. "Well, you're pretty 'wow' yourself… cold room and all." 

"No, you didn't, did you? Oh Maker." He groaned and then let out a sigh. "You know," He said as he reached up to touch her cheek. "...that makes it even more unfair that I haven't seen much of you." 

"True." She said. She brought her lips to just out of reach of his. "But…" She said low, her voice barely more than a whisper. "…if you kiss me… the way you do… I may just show you." 

Chapter 38: Fourteenth Camp 

38.1 Alistair 

Alistair had been awake for hours, thinking, then trying his best not to think, failing and then thinking some more. Given all that had happened the evening before, he was surprised he had been able to sleep at all. As the night began to recede from the emerging sun, he figured that he might as well get breakfast started. They had a lot of ground to cover today. 

After dinner, Kathryn had finally told him about what had happened at the castle. He knew that had been difficult for her. The fact that she had finally shared that with him showed how close they had become. But they had shared a lot more before the evening had ended. 

She had asked him why looking at her without armor on would make the entire ordeal at the urn more awkward than it already was and he had had to explain. It hadn't been easy, painfully embarrassing, in fact, but he had been honest with her. He could barely believe they had talked about that, about his… reaction to her and what he thought about being with her... a lot. Not to mention the fact that she now she had a pretty good idea of that he had been talking about. 

He had found out she had seen him less than fully clothed before the urn, after the ordeal at the tower. That she had wanted to see him like that, back then, was a surprise and good one. He knew he wasn't unattractive but he was pleased that she liked how he looked and that seeing him like that had affected her in the way that it had. 

He had complained, mostly in jest, that while she had seen him less than fully clothed twice now, he had not seen very much of her at all. And while he still hadn't had a good look at her, he couldn't now complain that he didn't know what she looked like. 

Before last night, he had held her in his arms, felt her pressed against him, but mostly through layers of hardened leather. He had run his hands over her sides and down her back, but no more than that. 

And while he wanted more, he couldn't bring himself to. At times the desire had seemed nearly impossible to contain, but he didn't want that, at least not like that. He didn't want to do anything that she might not want him to or even if she did then, that she might regret later. Maybe it was his own insecurity but he wanted her to be sure and he couldn't take that kind of liberty without asking, without knowing for certain, that was what she wanted and that she wanted it not only in the heat of the moment but in the calm before and would still in the quiet after. 

Last night, they had kissed intently, then she had stopped and stepped back and as he watched she removed her leather chestpiece, leaving her in her undershirt and leggings. She had taken his hand, opened it, turned the palm towards her and then pressed it against her chest. The thin cloth hadn't hid much of anything. He had thought about touching her, of course, but hadn't imagined it to be like that, that she would feel like that, and that he would. 

She had inhaled sharply as he touched her, surprised by her own reaction. He had brought his other hand to her hip and pulled her back to him, kissing along her neck and collarbone. She pushed his hand down her hip as her back arched against him, her hands gripped his shoulders as she had softly moaned. 

He had then stepped back and started to remove his heavy undershirt. His shoulder while healing was still sore and he struggled with it. She stepped up and helped pull it off of him. As the shirt fell to the ground, she embraced him, wrapping her arms around him, running her hands over his shoulders and back, arms and chest. He held her tightly, finally able to feel her against him. 

He had put his hands on her hips and then slowly started to run them up her back, but instead of feeling through the thin cloth, he touched her skin. His hands had gotten under her shirt. He snatched his hands back, and stepped away from her. He hadn't meant to do that, hadn't wanted to take that kind of liberty, cross the clear line she had made. He had met her eyes, shook his head and looked down, ashamed of himself. It had been an accident and he hoped that she would understand. 

"Kathryn… I'm sorry… I didn't mean…" he said. 

"I know." She said. He could hear in her tone that she believed him, but there was something else. At least, she didn't sound angry, well, not yet. 

This was just his luck. Things were simply going to well, he had to do something idiotic to ruin it. He couldn't imagine that she would want to continue, in fact, she may never want to again. He wouldn't blame her. She had been generous with him, but had made it clear she only wanted it to go so far and he had violated that, betrayed her trust. 

He had decided to collect his shirt and return to the fire, when she touched his arm turning him back to her. She stepped to him and took his hands and put them back on her hips. She pushed them up her sides and under her shirt. He couldn't believe how soft and warm her skin was. 

"Kathryn… you don't…" He started but as his hands were pushed up her stomach, he forgot what he was going to say. 

"Don't you want to?" She asked him, looking him in the eyes and pushing his hands till they reached her ribs. 

"I… I didn't mean to… do that." He said with effort. He was finding it hard to breathe. "I don't want you to... if you don't… if you aren't…" 

She stopped pushing his hands and asked. "Do you want to?" 

He didn't want her to make a decision like this in the heat of the moment but she looked calm and certain and he couldn't lie. "Yes, yes, I do… but… are you sure?" 

"I'm sure." She said and smiled and started pushing his hands farther up. "Say it again." 

"What? I… don't…" He said. 

"My name. Say my name again." She said as his hands reached the bottom of her chest. 

"Kathryn…" He said nearly breathless. 

"Say it again." She said and then gasped and moaned as she pressed his hands to her chest. 

"Kathryn…" He could only whisper. He kissed her, again and again and again, as his hands traveled the length of her torso, from her shoulders to her waist and then back again. He would have thought feeling her, finally touching her would have sated the desire he felt but in truth it had made it worse, much worse. 

With only his breeches on, he know that she would be able to feel his… reaction to her, to what she had done, to what they were now doing. Before he had always made sure to keep his lower body back or turn his hips away from her, so that she wouldn't know he was having that reaction to her. He hadn't wanted to make her uncomfortable, for if she had know how much he wanted her… well, it would have made things awkward and embarrassing more for him than anything. But now she knew about that, knew he reacted to her, knew he wanted her. They had talked about this and she hadn't seemed upset or at all embarrassed that he had that reaction. She had seemed more curious than anything. And while it was one thing to talk about it and quite another to have it happen, there was really no reason to hide it from her. 

Despite all that, he still felt self-conscious about it. It was very personal and private, his innermost desires, and letting her know that, was like allowing someone to peer into his heart and mind. But she wasn't just someone, she was the one person he wanted to share all he was with. And if they were to go farther than this, and he did want that eventually, they would both have to deal with it. 

He had kissed her intently as he wrapped his arms around her, running his hands down her back. She had moved even closer to him, and this time he didn't turn his hips away from her but let her press against him. He had felt her body tense and slightly pull away from him, surprised at what she had felt but then she almost immediately relaxed. She had actually smiled when she realized what was going on. Could it be she was pleased she had that effect on him? He liked that idea for that could mean that she wanted him to want her which could mean that she wanted him too. And if he had any doubt of that, it was gone when she placed her hands on his hips and pressed hers to him. 

He had never been that… excited in his life. 

They had to stop, because he knew if they didn't a lot more would happen and he wasn't sure if he was ready for that, if she was ready, and if they were. He did know that then was not the time to be making that decision, not when they were nearly overcome by emotion and desire and likely to do something they may regret. She laid her head on his shoulder as he rested his head on hers. They wrapped their arms around each other, bodies, shoulders, chests, stomachs, hips, legs, pressed together. They stood there holding each other long into the night before finally tearing themselves away. It had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. 

He wanted to lie with her and it seemed with each passing moment he wanted it more and more. He had thought about being with her but now he was actually thinking about being with her, thinking about not thinking about it anymore, thinking about asking her to lie with him. It was becoming nearly all he could think about. 

He had never done that, of course, and he wanted it to be with her, the first time and every time after and he hoped there would be many, many times after. He wanted to bring her all the pleasure and release he had heard it can bring to someone. He wanted to show her, to prove to her that he loved her and that there would never be anyone else, not for him. 

But he wanted to make sure it was right. They hadn't been together that long and she was just opening up to him. There was so much she was dealing with, the pressure and responsibility, and last night she been emotional and vulnerable and he didn't want anything like that to influence her decision. He wanted her to do it because she wanted to, make the choice from strength and love and not fear or weakness. 

But he didn't want to think about that now. He hoped it would never come to anything like that. Although no Blight had ever been defeated without cost, a heavy cost, especially for the Grey Wardens. It would be a miracle if both of them made it through to the end of it. It was a minor one they had both survived so far. He thought about watching the ghostly version of her die in the temple. That could happen for real at any time. He didn't want to wait and something happen and they miss their chance. 

Kathryn emerged from her tent. He couldn't help but think about her without armor, about feeling her, kissing her, holding and hearing her... Maker, it was going to be a long day. 

38.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn stepped out of her tent. She had spent a restless night, her mind racing and not allowing sleep to catch her till early this morning. But she had no one to blame but herself for it. 

The evening before, she had told him about the attack on the castle. It had been difficult to open up like that, to share that with him, but well worth it. Then after, she had done something bold and daring and forward and unlike anything she had ever done before and it had felt good. Not only did him touching her felt incredible but doing what she wanted and what felt right without regard to what should or shouldn't happen or what anyone else would or wouldn't think. 

She knew Alistair would never take any physical liberties with her, at least not on purpose, so she had given him one. It had not been an impulse or spur of the moment decision. She had thought about it, wanted and considered, imagined and even fantasized about it beforehand and still it had been overwhelming. 

She had considered just removing her shirt entirely, for it wasn't like it hid much of anything anyway. But that was her way of controlling the situation, of making sure things didn't get out of hand. It was a way to draw a line, a clear indication of how far things could go for both of them. It would be easy in that moment to go further than they were ready for. These were new experiences for them both and she didn't know how she would react much less how he would. She believed he would never take things further than she wanted, but she hadn't had any proof of that, until now. 

His hands had slipped underneath her shirt. She knew he didn't mean to, that it wasn't some trick to get her to do more. She could tell that by his reaction. He was sorry and ashamed that he had crossed that line, and had the instant it happened pulled his hands back. She knew it was an honest mistake and an accident. He wouldn't do that on purpose. It just wasn't something he would do. But knowing she could trust him in such situations, knowing things would never go farther than she wanted them to, made her feel safe. It was a good feeling. And it made her willing to push the limits knowing that whatever line she set he would respect. While she had always known that in her heart, now she had all the proof her mind and body needed. She realized she could let him do more, and she realized she wanted him too. 

She had not been prepared for her reaction to him actually touching her, to feeling his hands on her body and his fingers touching her skin. She realized there was no way to be, to prepare for such feelings, no way to tell or even describe them. But even in the cold still light of dawn she felt good about what she had done, about what they had done. It felt right, and she didn't regret it at all. 

And if him touching her hadn't been enough, he had removed his shirt or tried to. Once she had realized what he was doing she had not been able to stop herself from nearly ripping the shirt off him. She had seen him twice like that and with the chance to actually touch him, she wasn't about to let his injured shoulder get in the way. To touch his skin with her hands, to trace the muscles of his chest, shoulders and arms with her fingers, to feel her body pressed against his... she didn't have the words to describe how it had made her feel. 

Then she had discovered exactly what he had meant when he told her that his body reacted to hers. She liked the fact that she could cause this kind of physical reaction in him. When they had talked about it, she had been intrigued and experiencing it had honestly aroused her even more than she was already, despite her surprise at first. While she hadn't expected to experience how much he wanted her, especially with how embarrassed he had been talking about it, that was only part of the surprise. For what she had been able to gather about such things, she hadn't expected that... or perhaps a better way of saying it was that she hadn't expected that much of it. 

But things hadn't gone any further than that. She wanted to be sure, wanted them both to be, but she was thinking about it more and more. The only real consideration was how they felt, how she felt and how he felt and he felt pretty good to her. She loved how he touched her, held her, kissed her. But it was more than that. She loved being in this relationship with him, loved that they were together, loved every moment they spent with each other even if just silently walking side by side along the miles of road they had traveled. 

She saw him there next to the fire and felt a rush of emotions. Ones of excitement and peace, joy and contentment, desire and satisfaction. She couldn't help but smile. She felt happy and alive and… in love, completely, utterly in love. Then it hit her just like that, as truth so often does, as though you had just noticed something that had been there all along. She loved him. She was in love with him, of course, but now she realized that she loved him, truly loved him. This is what love felt like, this is what all the bards sang of, what her parents had felt for each other, what she had wanted and hoped for all her life. She loved him. And she thought… she really believed that he loved her too. 

In a way, that she couldn't explain, their bond felt like it had always been, from even before they had met, as though it had only been waiting for them to discover each other. The more they shared of their hearts and minds and bodies, the more she wanted to and the better it was and felt. She wanted to lie with him, be with him, go to sleep in his arms and wake up in them. But were they ready for that? Was she? Was he? It was an act they couldn't take back both personally and together, it would change them and their relationship and they needed to be ready, or as ready as you can be for such a change. 

He looked up and smiled at her and her heart felt like it would burst. She walked over to where he was. It took nearly all the self-control she had to not kiss him right here in front of everyone, and not one of those sweet, short, good morning kisses either... By the Maker. It was going to be a long day. 

38.3 Alistair 

It was late afternoon, they had made good progress down the mountain but they would need to find a camp soon. They had stopped earlier at a small village to rest and get some supplies. They had found out that an early snow storm farther east had blocked the path they had taken up the mountain. They had been told of another route still along the imperial highway but farther south. It would add a couple days to their trip but they couldn't wait and risk the path remaining blocked all winter. 

They came to a crossroad. Kathryn looked at the map she had drawn in her journal, checking for the signs that would indicate which route they should take. The course decided upon they started across the bridge. 

Alistair stopped walking. She stopped and looked at him curiously. He held up a hand and looked up and then around. "What?" She said becoming concerned. The rest of the party stopped. 

"Can't you sense that?" He said. 

"I… oh, yes!" She said starting to look around. "But I can't tell where. It still seems like it's coming from everywhere." 

"That's because it is." He said and looked at her. "They're coming… here." 

"Get off the bridge!" Kathryn shouted to the others. "Get back. Leave the cart. Grab only supplies you need. Take up positions and get ready." 

"For what?" Leliana said. 

"Darkspawn!" Kathryn said. 

"A lot of them." Alistair added. 

Chapter 39: Fifteenth Camp 

39.1 Alistair and Kathryn 

Everyone grabbed supplies, potions, poisons and grenades, arrows, helmets and weapons and raced back across the bridge. Sten was the first across and after surveying the area determined the best place for them to make their stand and took up his position. The rest took up theirs around him. 

Everyone got set for the attack and waited and listened. All was quiet and still. Then the soft sounds of footsteps, growling and their hideous laughter. Then they were everywhere. Without the forewarning they would have been caught in the middle of the bridge, outnumbered, surrounded and trapped. As it was, they were only outnumbered and trapped. 

The darkspawn pulled back. Alistair yelled. "Fireball!" He grabbed Kathryn and pulled her to the ground and covered them with his shield. The others took cover. Morrigan blasted the area with cold just as flames exploded around them. Okay, maybe Alistair hated her just the tinniest bit less now. 

He looked to Kathryn. "Emissary!" 

"Where?" She asked. 

He closed his eyes using his templar abilities to sense the darkspawn mage. "Other side of bridge." He said. 

"We have to kill it or else we're all dead." She said. Alistair nodded. She yelled to the rest. "Stay together!" 

She looked back to Alistair. "Now." She started towards the bridge as he smited the emissary, then he followed her. The others watched as they disappeared into the mob of darkspawn. 

Roland and Sten plowed into the throng, working in tandem. Leliana kept up a blistering rate of fire, picking off the weak and injured, crippling and impeding the strong. Wynne concentrated on keeping everyone fighting. Morrigan cast destructive spells and tried to slow the darkspawn attack. Zevran kept the darkspawn off Wynne, Morrigan and Leliana, made sure the warriors didn't get overwhelmed, and threw the occasional bomb just to keep things interesting. He could support with the bow if needed. His aim was not as good as Leliana but he made better use of poison and consequently didn't need to be as accurate. It was a good system the only question was how long they could keep it up. 

Kathryn and Alistair cut a path through the throng as quickly as they could. As they reached the halfway point of the bridge, Alistair smited the emissary again, but he knew he didn't have another in him. They would have to get to the emissary before the stun effect wore off, before it could recover and before it had a chance to fireball the others. As they approached, he saw it wasn't an emissary but three of them. A hurlock and two genlocks. Their only saving grace was that they had been standing close enough together that the smite had stunned them all. 

Kathryn took out her bow. Alistair charged through the last few darkspawn, knowing they were running out of time. She climbed on top of wall, kicked off a couple hurlocks, drew the bow and began firing. She hit the third one pinning it. Alistair got to the first and bashed it to the ground and then attacked the second, pummeling it. He felt the arrows fly past him. He had to fight all three, had to keep them off balance, had to make sure they didn't have time to cast anything big. But he couldn't do it, and he knew it. There was no way he could keep up with three especially for the faster spells. But if he could keep them focused on him, he could resist, he could take it. He hoped. 

He sensed the alpha approach and looked up in time to see it running onto the bridge, in its massive armor and wielding a battleaxe. He got set for it to attack him but it ran past him towards Kathryn. One good hit would take her out. He was torn but he knew what he had to do. He had to take out the emissaries or else they had no chance to survive this attack. Fighting a one-on-one battle with a heavily armored opponent was not her strength, but she was good enough to stay out of its way until he could handle the emissaries. But one lucky strike, one slip on her part, a trip or distraction or hesitation at the wrong time, if one little thing went wrong… he ground his teeth and turned back to the emissaries. 

Kathryn kept firing as Alistair charged. She got off several good shots as he attacked the emissaries. Then she saw the alpha head towards her. She jumped down from the wall in time to dodge the swing from the battleaxe. She rolled and came up firing. The alpha laughed as most of the arrows glanced off its armor. It turned and started towards Alistair. Then she understood, it was there to protect the emissaries. If it attacked Alistair he would have to face it, giving the emissaries time to flee or cast something big, nasty and most likely fatal. 

She had to keep the alpha from attacking him and give him time to dispatch the emissaries. She threw an acid flask at its feet which got its attention and would weaken the armor. Now the arrows stuck. It turned back to her and was no longer laughing. It charged her. She kept firing till she was nearly in range of the ax and then she rushed it, diving down just as it swung. She came up flashing her daggers, driving them into the back of the alpha. She retreated, pulling out the bow and firing continuously. She hadn't done much more than piss it off, but she had accomplished that, and that was good. She was over-matched but she had to keep it focused on her that and not get hit. 

Alistair felt the blasts from the staffs and shrugged them off. Then he felt the flame blast. He resisted most of it, but it still took all the air from around him. He was left gasping, the heat made him feel weak. He bashed the emissary and struck it, again and again, pushing it back, finally finding an opening and running it through. He turned in time to see the cold blast from one of the genlocks. The cold seemed to blow through him. He knew enough to keep moving, his joints stiffened, muscles locked up. He forced them to move but he could do no more than slow motion. He reached the genlock and knocked it to the ground. He turned to the remaining one who ran. 

39.2 Wynne 

Wave after wave after wave of darkspawn attacked. Sten finally gave out, he was stronger and more resilient than the rest but he was also the biggest target. Wynne sent healing but it wasn't enough. Morrigan transformed into a bear to take his place. Zevran threw bombs to buy time and space and furiously attacked with poisoned blades, but he couldn't keep that up. Leliana took several arrows in rapid succession and fell. Roland was slowing down and could only keep up defensively. Morrigan shook off several attackers and was forced back into her human form. 

Wynne called out "Morrigan, we need help." Morrigan looked at her curiously and then nodded. She transformed into a spider, crawled up to a better vantage point and started spitting poisons and webs at anything close to Wynne. Wynne called upon the spirit. She felt the healing energy flow through and out of her and then everything went black. 

The healing magic flowed out of Wynne, reaching each one of them. Everyone reset and made a hard push against the darkspawn. And bit by bit the flow of darkspawn slowed and then stopped. One by one the darkspawn fell until finally they were the only ones standing. 

39.3 Alistair 

Alistair turned back as the first genlock attempted to get to its feet, and he knocked it down again. He felt the blast from the second but ignored it and drove his sword through the first. He turned back to the second. It laughed and started to cast. Alistair waited and watched as the fireball formed in the emissary's hands. He couldn't get to it in time to stop the spell. All he could do was evade the effect. Which wasn't easy. 

At this distance there would be barely a moment between when the creatures launched the fireball and when it hit. If he waited till it began to throw the fireball, he wouldn't have time to get out of the way. He had to move before it launched the fireball. But if he moved too soon, it would simply stop and wait or worse throw it where he was going. He had to move after the creature had committed to launching it but before it actually did. It all came down to who blinked first. 

39.4 Kathryn 

Kathryn kept moving, stabbing, firing and evading the alpha, but she was nearly out of arrows and grenades and she was tiring. She couldn't keep this up too much longer but she couldn't stop either or else she would get hit and one would be enough to take her out. Normally she would simply run but if she did the alpha would attack Alistair. 

She was hurting it but not enough, too many blows glanced off the massive armor, too many arrows were deflected harmlessly away. Kathryn dodged another swing from the battleaxe rolling past the alpha. She got to her feet but each time it took longer. She took a moment to catch her breath. As the alpha turned to face her, she felt something grab her leg. 

39.5 Alistair 

Alistair stared into the emissary's eyes. This thing didn't fear, didn't love, it didn't think or deliberate or worry or regret, it knew nothing of joy or sorrow. It had nothing to gain or lose by this fight. All it knew was destruction and death. He had to be calmer, more patient, more focused, than a being without emotion. He was still, everything was quiet. The only sound he could hear was his own breathing. He waited and waited and waited and then he saw the flinch. 

39.6 Kathryn 

Kathryn looked back to see a dying hurlock, its hand holding her ankle. She tried to pull out of its grip but it held fast. She saw the alpha raise its ax. She fell back, twisting as the ax barely missed her. She drove her dagger through the arm of the darkspawn, with a scream, it let her go. 

She turned back to the alpha in time to see the ax coming towards her. She rolled away but not fast enough, the edge of the blade sliced her thigh. A sharp burning pain shot through her leg. Blood began pouring out of the cut. She tried to stand but it wouldn't support her. She stood on her other leg as the alpha walked towards her laughing. It raised the ax overhead. With all the strength she had left, she jumped. 

39.7 Alistair 

Alistair charged as the emissary launched the fireball. He ran straight into its path, just as he could feel the heat radiating off of it, he dodged and the fireball flew harmlessly by, hitting where he had been moments before. The emissary could do nothing but laugh as he ran it through. Alistair pulled his sword out of the body of the genlock. He couldn't sense anymore darkspawn, they were all dead. 

He turned, his eyes looking around but nothing stood on this end of the bridge. He felt panic creep up on him closing his throat. His eyes scanned the bridge. He saw her lying on the ground, surrounded by a growing circle of blood. The alpha laid a few feet away, her dagger sticking out of its neck. He turned her over. She was unconscious. He looked and saw the wound in her leg, blood flowing out of it. He always kept bandages with him and pulled them out. He pressed the cut together, blood pouring over his fingers and wrapped her leg. Blood still seeped from the bandages but the flow had slowed to a trickle. He had to get her to Wynne. 

39.8 Leliana 

Leliana surveyed the damage. There were four shots. Two had only glancing blows that had only torn the fabric and were easy enough to fix but her armor had two holes in it, not to mention the blood stains. The wounds that corresponded with those holes had been healed but holes in leather can never be repaired. She was rather upset. She really did love this set of armor. It fit great, made her waist look tiny and her breasts bigger and the color was just perfect for her skin tone. 

She wiped away the blood and thought maybe if she replaced the damaged pieces not with a similar color because you can never get that to match but another color and then do the same on the other side… yes, that might work… she could even reinforce the armor and add a ribbon or even fur… that always looks luxurious and expensive and it would be warm. 

"Kathryn!" She heard Roland shout. She looked up to see Alistair walking across the bridge carrying Kathryn who looked… unconscious. Even worse Leliana could see that Alistair's hands were covered in blood and more of it was dripping off Kathryn's leg. 

Both Roland and Wynne hurried towards Alistair who stopped and laid Kathryn on the ground. Leliana moved forward not wanting to be in the way but close enough to help if needed. 

"It's her leg, about mid thigh, cut deep. I… I tried to wrap it but it's still bleeding. She… She's lost a lot of blood." Alistair said. Leliana could hear how frightened he was. 

"What happened?" Roland asked. 

"Alpha with a battleaxe." Alistair said. 

"How long has she been out?" Wynne asked as she looked at the wound. 

"I don't know." Alistair said. 

"You don't know!" Roland said. "How could you let his happen? How could you let an alpha with a battleaxe attack her" Roland said sounding on the verge of panic. 

"Quiet." Wynne said. She put her hand over the cut. A soft blue light came from her fingers but then quickly disappeared. She looked up and saw Leliana. "Leliana, dear, I need a lyrium potion and a injury kit. Quickly." 

Leliana hurried to the cart and grabbed the items and rushed back to Wynne. Wynne drank the potion and applied a healing salve and bandages to Kathryn's leg. Wynne placed her hand over the wound. Leliana could see the soft blue light from her fingers seep into Kathryn's flesh. The bleeding stopped. Wynne placed her other hand on Kathryn's chest. More light flowed into her. Wynne took her hand away. While Kathryn's seemed to be breathing easier, she was still unconscious. 

Alistair looked to Wynne. "She should be waking up. Why isn't she waking up?" 

"She's lost a lot of blood." Wynne said simply but she looked concerned. 

"I know… but why isn't she waking up?" Alistair asked. 

"I don't know." Wynne said. 

"What?!" Roland said. 

"She may just need more time to heal, time for her body to replace the blood she's lost. Even with the regeneration and healing spells that might take some time" Wynne said but she didn't look convinced. 

"But it could be something else? Something worse?" Roland asked. 

"It's possible that the blood supply was interrupted to her head. There could be damage and that's not something I can heal." Wynne said. 

"What do you mean you can't heal her?" Roland asked frantic. 

"Magic can only help the body heal itself. But there are injuries, especially ones to the mind, that the body can't heal." Wynne said. "If that's the case..." 

"If that is the case, you're saying she may not wake up at all." Alistair said grave. 

"Yes, that's possible." Wynne said. Leliana said a silent prayer. 

"When will we know?" Alistair asked. 

"Depending on how much blood she lost and if there is any other damage, it could be any moment or it could take some time." Wynne said. 

"How could you let this happen?" Roland said, standing and beginning to pace. His anger and grief growing with each word he said. "She trusted you and you let her get hurt! You were supposed to protect her!" 

"She's going to be fine." Alistair said standing and looking at his hands still covered in her blood. "Just give her some time." 

"The ashes!" Roland said. "They can cure anything." 

"No." Alistair said. "We don't know if she even needs them. We need to wait." 

"How can you say that? She could die!" Roland said and then looked at Wynne. "Couldn't she?" 

"If the damage... yes, it's possible." Wynne said. 

Roland turned back to Alistair. "How can you risk her life like that? You… you don't love her. If you did you wouldn't hesitate to do whatever you could to heal her." 

"I do… love her." Alistair said. "But we need the ashes to awaken the arl. She just needs time to heal. If she doesn't wake up… but now we need to make camp. None of us are in any condition to travel. We… need to find some place safe, defensible, some place..." 

"You aren't in charge." Roland said. "Or it that why you let that thing attack her? So you could take over or was it just to save yourself? I..." Roland didn't get to finish for Alistair's fist slamming into his jaw prevented him from speaking further. Roland stumbled back and went down to a knee. 

Alistair started walking towards him. Leliana saw the wave of energy wash over Alistair. It should have stunned him or at least pushed him back but it seemed to affect him no more than a gust of wind. He turned to Wynne and said calm. "Stay out of this." He turned back to Roland who had managed to get to his feet. 

"You want to fight? Then we do this right." Roland pulled out his sword and held it before him. "I challenge you…" Alistair took two strides and knocked the sword out of Roland's hands. 

"I don't have to justify myself or prove anything to you. I'm going to do whatever I have to do to fight the blight and end the civil war and save whatever is left of Ferelden. I don't care about your challenges and I'm not following anyone but her and right now my only concern is to get her some place safe so she can recover. Either you help me or get out of my way." Alistair said. 

"I'm not leaving her with you!" Roland said. "You can't take care of her. You don't deserve…" 

"Roland!" Kathryn's voice called out. "That's enough!" Leliana looked over and saw that Kathryn was sitting up. She thanked the Maker that Kathryn was all right and that she had recovered in time to stop what was becoming an ugly and perhaps even dangerous situation. 

Alistair stepped back from Roland and then hurried to her. "Are you all right?" He asked. 

"I'm fine." She said but her voice was weak. "Damned hurlock tripped me. I should be more careful." 

Alistair shook his head. "I…" 

"We need to make camp." Kathryn interrupted him. 

"Ah… yes, we… um… need to get some place safe, defensible, in case more come. It might be better to go back the way we came." He said. 

She nodded and pulled out her journal. She turned the pages with an unsteady hand. She looked at the map and rubbed her forehead. She looked tired. Kathryn looked at Alistair and then handed the journal to him. "Here." She said. 

Alistair looked at her for a moment and then reached out and took the journal. Kathryn closed her eyes and laid back on the ground. Alistair took a deep breath and looked over the map. He traced the route with his finger and then stopped. "There." He said. 

He looked up. All of them were watching him, for the briefest moment she thought he looked overwhelmed or even scared. It was as though a wave of fear washed over him but having withstood it, it was gone. Now, he looked confident and determined. "Everyone pack up and let's get a move on." He said in a voice that left no room for question. 

Leliana collected her things, and once done gathered around the cart with the others. Alistair went over to Kathryn. She looked up at him. "I can make…" 

"No, you can't." He said as he picked her up, and carrying her in his arms, started back down the road. 

39.9 Alistair 

Alistair put more wood on the fire. The early snow storm that had forced them this far south seemed to be mostly spent for only the occasional snow flake drifted down from the overcast sky but it was still bitterly cold. He had volunteered to keep watch. He could sense if more darkspawn approached and with Kathryn not at full strength, he wasn't going to get any sleep anyway. 

He didn't want to think about today, about seeing Kathryn laying there injured and unconscious, about desperately trying to stop her life's blood pouring out of her, about watching and not knowing if she would ever wake up. It was too much like a nightmare. She should be fine tomorrow, he kept telling himself. A good night's sleep should allow her to heal completely, and she'd be fine... she'd be... just... fine. 

He took out the journal and went back over the map for the rest of the route. They needed to be on guard in case of another attack. He hadn't expected the darkspawn to be this far west but he should have learned to expect the unexpected and vice versa. After studying the map he began to flip through the pages. He noticed that the first few pages of the journal had been torn out. Afterwards was a record of everything that had happened, in the names of people met, information and rumors gathered, records of money made and spent, merchants and supplies, lists of things that needed to be done, favors performed and rewards earned, maps and routes and camp sites, and everything else that might be important. 

But there was nothing personal in all the lists and drawings and, to his disappointment, nothing about him. Not that he expected there to be, but he had hoped there would be something. He flipped through the remaining pages, still empty and blank. 

He had nearly decided to put it away when he saw that at the end of the journal were pages filled with her handwriting. This was her personal journal, her private thoughts and feelings. He shouldn't read it. He knew he shouldn't. It was a violation of her privacy… but… then again… it wasn't like he took it without her knowledge. She had given it to him. She had to know he would look through it, would have to. Although her personal thoughts were far in the back away from the useful information, hidden from anyone looking at the journal. 

Perhaps she had only given it to him because of her trust in him that he wouldn't look into her private writings, that he would act with honor and respect. He closed it and set it before him. Of course, it would be nice to know what she thought about... things, helpful even. He wondered if the situation was reversed, if she had a chance to read his personal journal, what she would do. 

39.4 Alistair 

Alistair had just put more wood on the fire when Kathryn stepped out of her tent. She walked over to him and sat down next to him, without any kind of a limp or any sign of being in pain, but she looked pale. 

"How are you?" He asked. 

"Better. Leg's healed. It didn't even scar. I'm just tired." She said. He nodded. She took a deep breath. "You punched Roland." 

"I did." He said. 

"From what I hear, he's lucky you didn't break his jaw." She said. 

"Luck didn't have anything to do with it." He said. She looked at him. "I know how to break a man's jaw and how not to." He took a deep breath. "Roland is a good man and he's saying and doing things he wouldn't normally and I should give him a certain amount of leeway since you're... not with him anymore. I get that, but I'm not going to let him say something like that to me. Accuse me of letting you… So don't start." He said. 

"I wasn't." She said. "If he had said something like that to me, I'd have punched him too." She looked down, sad and thoughtful. "He isn't letting go. I just wish he… I don't think that's going to be the last of it." 

"Neither do I." He said. Several moments passed as they watched the fire. 

Alistair took out her journal and handed it back to her. "Here. You'll need this back." 

She took it and began flipping through the pages. She studied the map for a few moments and then continued flipping through the pages until she opened to the pages in back filled with her handwriting. Her eyes widened. "Oh. I forget about this." She said to herself. 

"About what?" He said. 

"These pages in the back, the very back. You didn't read them, did you?" She said hopeful. 

"Oh, I saw those, they looked... personal." He said. 

"Yes, they are, a diary of sorts." She said. 

"I thought so. Reading that would be a violation of your privacy. You didn't give it to me to read but so that I could use the map and find a good place to camp. It would a betrayal of your trust to read it." He said. 

She smiled. "That's very honorable of you and shows great discipline, I must say." 

"Besides, if it was my journal would you read it?" He asked. 

Kathryn started to say something and then stopped and looked at Alistair curiously and then smiled. "You read it, didn't you?" 

"Be honest, despite your professions about honor and discipline, you'd have no respect for me if I hadn't read it." He said. 

"Hmmm... yes, that's true." She said with a resigned smile. "So… how embarrassed will I be when I read what I wrote?" She asked. 

"Ah… probably… very." He said. 

"Lovely." She said. Then her eyes grew very wide. "Um… there wasn't anything in there having anything to do with…" 

"Honey?" He said with a smile. "No, not a thing." 

"Oh Maker." She said with a sigh. She shook her head and put the journal down. "I figured you might not be so eager to give it up, embarrassing fantasies notwithstanding. You know that once you tried it you might like being in charge." 

"No, because that means you're unable to. I don't like that at all." He said. 

"Alistair, I'm fine." She said. 

"Yes, no thanks to me." He said. 

"You know that isn't true." She said. 

"I let you get hurt. I let that thing attack you when I could have stopped it. I saw it run past me and go after you. I should have stopped it." He said. 

"And let the emissaries fireball all of us into the next age? Yes, good plan." She replied. "I got tripped, that's why I was injured. It wasn't your fault. My fault if anyone's, really just bad luck. I can take care of myself." 

"Right. That's why I found you laying there unconscious bleeding to dea…" He stopped and looked down. 

"Fair enough." She said and took a deep breath. "But it isn't your job to protect me. As it isn't mine to protect you, as much as I'd like to. Both of us have to do whatever we have to do and that might mean…" She stopped not really wanting or even needing to spell out the rest. 

Alistair stared into the fire. Then he looked down at the ground and said. "I want to say something, and I don't want you to say anything. Just listen. There is something I want you to know… in case… anything ever… happened… I…" He stopped took a deep breath and let it out slow. "I love you. I just want you to know that. And don't say it back… not that I don't want you to… I do but not because I said it, but because you want to say it, if you… ever… but not now. Alright?" He said keeping his eyes on the ground. 

"Alright." Kathryn said as she turned to look at him. "If that's what you want, I won't say anything…" She waited until he looked her in the eyes. "and especially not that… I love you too." 

He swallowed hard. "Can I ask you something?" He said. 

"Of course." She answered. 

"Could you maybe… not say that again?" 

Chapter 40: Sixteenth Camp Part I 

40.1 Alistair 

Alistair looked out over the multitude of tents and fires spread out across the clearing. They had run across the encampment of a merchant caravan that was traveling up the mountain. The merchants had been glad to see them, for in prior days they had been attacked by highwaymen and a couple of their warrior escorts had been injured. Although the highwaymen had fared much worse. Wynne had examined them and while they would all heal, it would take some time. 

The merchants had invited them not only to share the spot but a very good dinner. Afterwards they had provided some much needed entertainment. The elven archer was a talented dancer and juggler and the dwarven metal merchant played the flute beautifully. Leliana and he had performed for some time after. It had been an enjoyable evening and there were far too few of those. 

Most everyone had already retired to their tents. Leliana was sewing by the fire. She had bought some heavy wool, leather strips and rabbit fur from the cloth merchant and was attaching them to her armor. Kathryn sat down next to her. He had been watching Kathryn carefully all day and not just to admire her hindquarters. He had been looking for any lingering effects from the darkspawn attack. He had observed how she moved and walked. She had no limp or any weakness in that leg, nor did she show any signs of exhaustion or anemia. She appeared to be completely recovered. He was relieved and grateful. 

As he became less concerned for her health, his mind turned to other thoughts about her. About how it had felt to hold her, touch her, to feel her skin, and how much he… wanted her and how difficult it had been to tear himself away the other night. He loved her and he knew with utmost certainty that there would never be anyone else for him. He realized that the reason he was thinking about all this so much was because he was considering asking her to lie with him. He couldn't believe that he was actually thinking about asking her, thinking about not just thinking about it anymore, but actually doing something… and about doing that with her. He wanted to be with her, the first time and every time after. 

He knew he was asking a lot, maybe more than he should and definitely more than he had any right to. He had nothing to offer her, just himself and he couldn't imagine that was enough for anyone. There were Chantry mice with more to their name than he had. Then there was the fact that as things stood, she was the Teyrna of Highever. And after the Blight was defeated and the civil war over, she may have to leave the Grey Wardens and take over its rule. Highever was too important, the people too loyal to the Couslands to have it given to anyone else. If she lived and Fergus didn't, she would have to become Teyrna. 

He had always understood that something may happen to separate them, that one of them may not survive the Blight. But he had never considered that even if they did survive that their duties might prevent them from being together. For if that is what came to be, even if he wanted to go with her, which he did, someone had to take over the Grey Wardens and make sure the remnants of the Blight were driven out. The death of the archdemon was not the end of it. After each Blight there was always years and years of fighting to drive the horde back underground and take back the lands claimed by the darkspawn. 

As Teyrna, she could not risk the disapproval of the nobility and even many commoners who would not look kindly to her relationship with the bastard son of a serving girl, even if he was a Grey Warden. He could hear the idle gossip 'How could she sully her reputation getting involved with such a person?' 'Does she have no respect for her name and position?' All those things mattered, it was naïve to think that they didn't. But did that matter to him? He didn't want to do anything to hurt her or have her ever regret being with him but then again that wasn't his choice. She knew all this better than he did and he wouldn't make that decision for her. He could only decide what he wanted. 

But did he still want to do this knowing that there was a very good chance that they… wouldn't end up together when it was all over? That something may happen to one of them or their duties and responsibilities may keep them apart. He could either walk away now, try to save the heartache and perhaps the grief that would in all likelihood come later or he could throw caution to the wind and do what he wanted. 

He was still not used to thinking about what he wanted. It was easier to think about duty, responsibility and even sacrifice. Easy to hide behind that and convince himself those were more important, that was the safe and sensible thing to do. But blast it all! He wanted this. The fact that this may be the only time they will ever have together, made him all the more determined. He was ready. Well, as ready as anyone can be for something like this. He was going to ask her and he was going to ask her… tonight. He would tell her how he felt and what he wanted and let her decide for herself. 

She may not want to do this for any number of reasons and ones that had nothing to do with her being a noble. They hadn't been together that long. This might be too fast for her, sooner than she felt comfortable with. If she wasn't ready and wanted to wait, then he would wait for her. He would wait forever if he had to. Of course, it was possible that she would say… yes. It was possible that she wanted this too. 

Now he just had to figure out what to say. He went over and over different ways of asking, different words and phrases, and they all without exception sounded ridiculous. He either sounded like an idiot or some lothario. He thought about the various scenes he had read. He would think in a book entitled One Hundred and One Antivan Nights in which each night was filled with desire and pleasure, there would be something useful but none of them really applied. Nearly all happened in the heat of moment when the characters were swept up by passion and he didn't want that. He wanted her to make that decision calmly and without pressure and never regret it. Perhaps he was over thinking it. All he knew was that his head was starting to hurt and it was getting late. 

40.2 Kathryn 

Leliana disappeared into her tent. Even with the meal and entertainment this evening, Kathryn still tried to check in with everyone. She stood and walked over to where Zevran normally kept his things. She noticed that Alistair was watching her. He had been watching her all day. While most of it was concern for her well-being she had seen him looking places that had nothing to do with her leg. She didn't mind. In fact, she was glad that he liked to look at her. But hopefully he was finally convinced she was fine. If so, he might be interested in some other activities that were more involved than talking. 

She had seen Zevran speaking quietly to the elven archer who, considering Zevran's absence, was no doubt teaching Zevran to juggle… in private. She looked over Zevran's bedroll and next to it was One Hundred and One Antivan Nights. Zevran had caught her with it the day after Alistair had kissed her. She had given the book to him, wanting it out of her sight for it reminded her of Alistair and at the time she was trying not to think of him, for at that moment she had needed time to sort through her feelings. 

But now, with that situation resolved, she wished she hadn't given it to him. It was an… entertaining book and quite the education. While she had read through a good part of it, she could appreciate more of it now. Things that she had read before that had confused her, she now understood. And those were just the parts she remembered. She wondered what else was in there, that she might have missed before due to her lack of experience. 

She picked up the book and flipped through the pages. Her eye resting on a passage. 

"She walked into the room and there he stood, as though he had always been there, waiting for her. All the feelings she had for him rushed forth, poured through her, like a flood, bursting through the calm façade she had cultivated all her life and shattering it completely. Her feelings were as strong as real as powerful as any she had ever felt and she no longer had the strength to deny them. She ran to him. He took her into his arms, kissing her mouth, cheeks, neck, chest. His hands ran rampant over her body, strong hands, firm, yet gentle. He pushed her up against the wall, ripping at the bodice of her dress. She pulled at the laces of his breeches, as he brought her legs up to his waist. She gripped his shoulder as he…" 

Kathryn put the book down. She didn't want to read anymore. Well, she did... want to but she really didn't need to get any ideas. The other night the situation had gotten quite intense all on its own, not that she had minded though. She enjoyed being intimate with him, more than she would have thought, in fact. But she didn't want to push or put pressure on him before he was ready. She loved him and wanted… that with him… when she was ready, when they both were, whenever that was. She remembered asking Leliana how she would know when she was ready and Leliana telling her that she just would. That when the time was right, she would just know. 

So much was made out of reputations and making a good match, things that hadn't mattered much to her before and mattered not at all now, but she also realized that they might one day. While she didn't really want to think about the possibility, she had to be mindful of the fact that as it stood, she was the Terynia of Highever. She knew that there were many who would not look kindly upon her relationship with Alistair. And even if she decided to defy all of them, which she very well might, he was still a Grey Warden and would have duties that would take him far away from Highever for perhaps years after the Blight ended. 

She remembered Wynne's warning. It was true that death or duty may come between them but she couldn't see the logic in ending things now to save pain later. If she knew she would lose her arm or leg in this war would she then wish to cut them off now? No, she would not do that but enjoy them, do all of the things she may not be able to do later so as to have the memories to treasure and hold close to her when they are gone. 

She turned and started walking towards where Alistair was sitting by the fire. As she approached him, he stood up and began. She listened to him. At first she was confused but soon realized that he was asking her to lie with him. 

She was stunned. In a way, she really should have expected this given what had happened between them, how he had reacted to her, but somehow it was still a surprise. She had suspected that with his lack of experience and also because of hers that he may never ask her. That he would wait for her to make that move if she ever did or wait for them to have sanction. This was a bit of a shock to her. But she realized, it wasn't a bad one. She had, of course, thought about this, thought about doing this with him… a lot. But it was one thing to think about and another to do. She did want this with him but was she ready for it? Was he? 

Kathryn took a deep breath. What he had said was sweet, earnest and sincere, charming in its simple honesty and emotion. Her mind and heart were racing, but she knew better than to listen to them. 

When Roland had asked her, she had known immediately the answer had been no. Before that she had tried to imagine doing that with him, tried to figure out what she wanted, what she thought and how she felt about it. As confused and as conflicted as she had been, she had only known for certain when Roland had asked her, when she could physically feel the answer. 

Was she ready for this? For the act itself? Was she ready to give her body, to take another into herself, to allow them… did she even want to? Then there were other considerations. Things between them were going well and this would change everything, change each of them and their relationship, hopefully for the better but there was no way to guarantee that. They had not been together that long. What if their relationship could not handle this level of intimacy? 

Then, of course, neither of them had done this before and really had no idea what they were doing. What if it was a disaster? What if… she… didn't enjoy it? She had heard how some women didn't. Many found it unpleasant and even painful at first, some always did. What if she was one of them? She had heard and read that it could be incredible but was she willing to risk everything to find out? 

She took a deep breath. Her mind quieted, her heart slowed. She suddenly felt calm. She watched as she placed her hand on Alistair's chest. He looked up to her and she heard herself say. "Yes." 

He took her hand. "Are you sure?" He said breathless and with a tentative smile. 

"Yes," She said and smiled at him. "Yes, I am sure. I want this… with you." He took a deep breath and then kissed her but this kiss was different than all the ones before it. Then she took his hand and lead him into her tent. 

40.3 Alistair 

Now, Alistair thought, if this was one of those stories in One Hundred and One Antivan Nights, they would just skip over the awkward and embarrassed getting undressed part and by the next paragraph the two of them would be naked. 

But it doesn't work that way. The biggest obstacle to consummating their relationship wasn't his nerves or her readiness, but the hundred pounds of armor, over two dozen buckles and straps, undershirt, breeches, boots and small clothes that he was wearing. He could have taken some of it off beforehand but that seemed presumptuous, and would have no doubt jinxed the whole thing. He started to unbuckle his glove but kept fumbling with the straps. He held his hand out before him and it was shaking. 

He had been prepared for her to say no, that she wasn't ready, that she didn't want this now or ever or at least not with him. He had hoped she would say yes, of course, but it seemed he wasn't ready for it. 

Then there was the whole being naked in her presence… completely naked. Not that he was at all nervous about that. No, of course not. Why would he be? He had just never been completely naked in a woman's presence before. Just her seeing him without a shirt at the temple had been nerve wracking. What made it worse was that she had no doubt never seen a man completely undressed before. Unless she really had peeked while they were in the Gauntlet, but even if she had, she had never seen a man in this… condition before. It wasn't the most dignified part of a man, that's for sure. He just hoped she didn't laugh. 

He wanted things to be right, perfect even. He had heard about a woman's release, read about the pleasure the act could bring to her and he was determined to do everything he could so that she could experience that. He only wanted to make her happy. He thought about praying for that, but he doubted that the Maker would answer such a prayer. He had been taught against doing this exact thing, threatened with divine punishment if he did, but he hoped that given the situation they found themselves in, the Maker would understand. 

He could see the benefit of having done this before, of having some idea of what you were doing, knowing what to expect and what not to do. He felt like such a idiot, all hands and fumbling. But still he couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else. Hopefully, he was a quick study. But he could only do the best he could. He only had himself, but all of it, his life, heart, mind, and now even his body and soul, they were all hers. If that wasn't enough for her, then it wasn't enough. If he couldn't make her happy, well… it was best to know that now. He took a deep breath and held his hand out. It was steady. 

He saw Kathryn step to him. She was nearly undressed, only wearing her undershirt and leather armor. She took his outstretched hand and began unbuckling his glove. He hoped he didn't look as nervous as he was and hoped that she was more nervous than she looked. She removed the glove and then the other. She started to undo the buckles on the arms and chest piece. At the temple, she had been efficient and quick, barely touching him. Now she took her time, deliberately undoing each one. Her hands ran over him, calming and exciting him at the same time. They lifted the chestpiece off. She took hold of the bottom of his undershirt. He raised his arms over his head, as she slowly lifted the shirt, her hands gliding over his stomach, chest, shoulders and arms till the shirt fell to the ground. 

She met his eyes and smiled. He reached for her, running his hands over her armor till he found the buckles. He carefully undid each one, letting her armor slip off of her and fall to the ground. He grabbed the edge of her shirt. She lifted her arms, as he ran his hands up her sides lifting the undershirt off. As it dropped to the ground behind her, he found he couldn't breathe. All he could do was stare. 

Dear Maker! She was beautiful! The most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He touched the side of her face, slowly traced down her neck, over her shoulders and chest, along her stomach, hips, and thighs. He pulled her to him, pressing her against him, feeling her skin against his. He held her, just held her to him, just to feel her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. 

He kissed her shoulder and her neck, and then her lips, gently at first and then more and more intently. She stepped back and sat down on the bedroll. He took a deep breath. This was it. He had to take off the rest of his armor before they could go any farther. He shouldn't be nervous but he was. And he had to get over it, now. 

He took a deep breath and removed his boots and socks and then his greaves. He unlaced his breeches and quickly removed them and his small clothes. He didn't want to see her reaction to him and tried to look away but couldn't. Her eyes got slightly wide. She looked confused and curious and amused in turn and then she smiled and everything was all right. Relieved, he got down on his knees and pulled her up to hers and kissed her. 

They kissed and touched and held each other for quite a while until they both knew it was time. She looked down as he touched her forehead with his lips. She sat back on the bedroll, moving her legs in front of her. Alistair could see the thoughts running through her mind as she looked away. This was it, really it for her. This was the last step, the last action she had to take before it could happen. All they had done before this had only been on the surface. All kissing and touching, but this was the next level. Now, she had to open herself to him. 

No matter what she felt for him, this was a big deal for her, it had to be. It was an act she could never take back, and it had implications more far reaching that their relationship. As he waited, watching her expression, it occurred to him that she had to have changed her mind, that only now in this position, at this moment, she realized that she wasn't ready, that she didn't want this, not now... or not with him. 

He would give her more time, all the time she needed. Although, he didn't want to think about the sheer number of buckets of ice cold water he would need to calm the fire he felt in his body, but he would deal. He could do that for her, for what he wanted more than anything else was for her to never regret being with him. He looked to her to say that but as he met her eyes, she smiled. She placed her hands behind her and leaned back. Then moved each foot to the outside of his knees. She looked in his eyes. I'm ready. They told him. 

He ran his hands up her legs to her knees and then down the outside of her thighs. He leaned forward placing his hands on either side of her, as she went to her elbows and then finally laid back upon the ground. He slowly lowered himself to her as her legs wrapped around him. Carefully and as gently as he could, he moved into position. She reached up and touched his face and then nodded. He took a deep breath and pushed his hips forward. 

Chapter 41: Sixteenth Camp Part II 

41.1 Kathryn 

So… Kathryn thought as she stared up at the inside of her tent. That was 'it'… 'that'… 'a turn in the straw'… 'taking a tumble'… 'licking a lamppost'… That was what everyone talked about… hungered and yearned for… dreamed and fantasized about… wrote and read of… and now she understood why. 

Her breathing was slowly returning to normal, her body calming. Alistair was laying beside her now. She turned onto her side to face him. His breathing was also slowing. He turned to look at her and smiled. She stroked his face, watching as his eyes began to blink. She laid her head on his shoulder as he put his arms around her, pulling her close as she wrapped her legs around his. She listened to his heart beat, listened as it slowed, felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Soon he was asleep. 

She knew he hadn't gotten much rest the night before. He had stood guard over all of them, making sure they would have warning if the darkspawn attacked. She watched him. She had seen him sleep before, seen how he would fidget in his dreams and as he suffered the nightmares but she knew there would be none tonight. He looked peaceful, content, even happy and Maker! He was beautiful. 

It had been an amazing night, beyond her hopes and imagination. In fact, there was no way she could have imagined a night like this. It had been perfect in its complete imperfection. There had been numerous fumblings and awkward positioning, surprises both wondrous and comical. There had been passion and desire, sure, but also gentleness and kindness, generosity and patience, pleasure and humor, all mixed together. It was not a night that would be included in One Hundred and One Antivan Nights.Though in its way, it had been so much better than any of them, for it was their night and it had gone exactly as it should have. 

It hadn't started well, however. At first, it hadn't felt good at all. But he had noticed and gone slowly, allowing her body time to adjust to this new experience. He had been patient, respectful and considerate of her. At times he had stopped completely, exerting what appeared to be an concerted effort. She hadn't understood then but now she realized he was delaying his own gratification so that she could reach hers. 

He had tried different positions and angles, rhythms and speeds. She had moved with him, reacting and responding to his movements. Some worked and some didn't but as they tried different things and made adjustments to each other, it became more and more enjoyable. And as it became more and more enjoyable, her body reacted in ways she didn't expect. There were sensations she had never felt before, nearly frightening in their intensity, but that felt incredible. Even as her body was wracked, she could feel that he was experiencing his own release. They held on to each other tightly until it was over. 

The night had been wonderful, but unbelievably there were ways to make it better. Even now she had ideas, things to try, adjustments to make. She was so looking forward to this part of their life together. 

She rested in his arms, happy and content. No, it was more than that. She had never felt like this. She had given all to him, mind and heart and then even her body to him and somehow in giving everything of herself, she had gained so much more. There had been pleasure sure, but she felt more of everything, happier, yes, of course, but stronger, braver, wiser, peaceful, excited, confident, and there was… joy. 

She felt filled with life. This is the best of what people can do and be and give. This is what is worth preserving, fighting and dying for, so that this can forever be possible… what she felt right now with him. Now she knew why her mother would not leave her father. She had come to understand, could imagine in ways that she hadn't been able to before how someone might not want to live without another but now… now she didn't have to imagine… now she knew how that felt. 

She pulled him closer, as he in the depths of sleep held her tighter. Her eyes began to blink and grow heavy. She was almost afraid to sleep, feared that it all might be a dream, but finally she couldn't resist and closed her eyes. 

41.2 Alistair 

Alistair awoke from a deep restful sleep. He became aware that he was lying naked wrapped in the arms and legs of a naked woman and somehow that didn't alarm him at all. Then he remembered. He opened his eyes and looked as Kathryn slept in his arms. He could feel her breathing, see how peaceful and content she looked. So, it hadn't been a dream after all. That night had really happened. Wow. 

He had never been so happy. He had found a place with her, a place that he felt he truly belonged, and it was a wonderful feeling. How he had gotten the love of such a woman was beyond him. He thought about all the nights, all those miserable nights he had spent and how none of them mattered now. If that was the price of this, he would gladly pay it a thousand times over. 

He had only wanted to make her happy and he had, though it had taken all the self-control he possessed. While the night had not been perfect, by any means, it had been wonderful in its way. She had been patient with his fumblings, willing to try different things and make adjustments until they discovered what worked for them. But then… did it work… did it ever work! 

He had been worried at first, for she didn't seem to be enjoying it. Even worse she seemed to be in some discomfort if not pain. He feared that he may have done something wrong or had perhaps, Maker forbid, hurt her. But eventually, she had began to react and respond. More than once he had been forced to stop and make sure he had control of himself before continuing. He was determined that she would achieve release before him. The last thing he wanted was for him to be satisfied from this and her not to be. He didn't want anything to happen that could be construed in any way as him using her. He wanted to share this with her, for it to be for the both of them, for them to enjoy each other, together. 

He had seen her react, felt her body tremble and shudder. Her back arched, head leaned back, her legs gripped him, hands clenched his shoulders, she cried out and then he felt her body release, and then he followed. Afterwards, she had curled up into his arms, and he had held her as he had drifted off. 

Being with her had been unbelievable, more than he had ever imagined, but there were more things to try, adjustments to make. He had learned so much. He knew that this could be even better for both of them, and he couldn't wait to do it again. 

The light of day was just dawning. He felt her breathing change, get deeper, then she moved slightly, moaned, and stretched. Her eyes fluttered and then opened. She looked up at him and smiled. 

"Are you all right?" He asked. 

"Yes." She looked confused. "Why?" 

"I… well… things got a little intense there at the end, and I didn't know if I had… I mean you are all right? I didn't…" 

"No, I mean, I am all right." She said touched by his concern, but not in the least surprised by it. "Better than all right, actually. Much, much better." She smiled at him and he smiled back. "That was… incredible and I know it wasn't easy for you to… wait." 

"It was fine. I mean not the… the waiting was fine. The rest was… it really really was." He said with a smile. 

She smiled back. "We should probably get up." She said while showing no inclination to do so. 

"Yes, there is a darkspawn hoard and a civil war to fight." He replied. "Although, I'd much rather stay in bed with you." 

"You know, that isn't that much of a compliment." She said. 

"Ah… yes, I guess that's true. How about '…much rather stay in bed with you than anything else I can think of'." 

"Even more than let's say dining at a royal banquet with a roaring fire, surrounded by every type of fine cheese there is, fresh baked bread, apples, pears, and grapes, all the finest Antivan brandies and the softest down bed with satin sheets to sleep on when you pass out from the excess?" She said. 

"Hmmm… I might have to think about that." He smiled. "No, still rather be here sleeping on the cold, lumpy ground in a drafty tent and eating my bad cooking, if I'm with you." 

"Good answer." She smiled. 

"But you do know once we step out of this tent, we are going to hear it from everyone." He said. 

"Well, first smart comment and I'll feed them to the darkspawn." She said. 

"See that's one of the things I love about you." He said laughing. 

"What are the rest? Wait, no doubt you love everything about me so just the top five things." She asked. 

"Well, sense of humor, of course, courage, kindness, intelligence and you have exceptional… hindquarters." He said. 

"Are you telling me that my ass made the top five things you love about me?" She said with mock annoyance. 

"Well, it is… perfect and I am a... man." He said. 

"Yes, of that I am well aware and can now attest to from my personal experience." She said smiling. 

"True. I'm just thankful you didn't laugh." He said. 

"Oh no, I was taught better manners than to laugh at anyone, but you must admit it is not the most distinguished part of you. But who am I to question the Maker's design in such things, and I can't argue with the results." She said with a smile. "Definitely not laughing now." 

"Is that so?" He said smiling. 

"Yes, it is." She said. "There is one thing before we go, though." 

"And that would be?" He asked. 

"I just wanted to say… you know… officially… that… I love you." She said. 

He smiled. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it now?" 

"No, not at all." She said. "It was surprisingly easy to fall completely in love with you." 

"And I love you. I didn't know if I'd ever feel this way about anyone. I wasn't sure it could happen for me, in fact." He said stroking her hair. "I just want to thank you… for… well, for everything." 

41.3 Zevran 

It was a beautiful morning. Zevran had spent an enjoyable evening in the company of the elven archer who he had discovered had a multitude of talents beyond those of archery. He dressed, packed his few things and went to get some breakfast. 

Leliana was just emerging from her tent and Wynne was finishing preparing some potions, but the key person was absent and consequently there was no breakfast. 

"Where's Alistair?" Leliana asked. 

"I don't know." Wynne said. "I haven't seen him this morning." 

"He's normally up by now." Leliana said. 

"I don't think he got much sleep the night before." Wynne said. "He stayed up to make sure the darkspawn didn't surprised us. He might have slept in this morning." Wynne gathered the potions and went to deliver them to the injured warriors escorting the merchants. 

"He was still up when I went to bed." Leliana said thoughtful. "Well, I guess we can manage. How hard can it be to make porridge?" 

Famous last words, no doubt. Zevran considered. "I will go and check to make sure he is well. Such a deviation from his normal routine is cause for concern, yes?" As is Leliana's cooking, Zevran thought. 

Zevran made his way to Alistair's tent. He hoped that Alistair was awake. He appreciated his vigilance and glad not to have to worry about waking up to a darkspawn sword slicing him through and didn't want to wake him. However while Alistair's cooking was nothing special, at least it was edible and hadn't made anyone sick. He wasn't sure he trusted Leliana's cooking. As it is said… the demon you know… 

He got to Alistair's tent and it struck him that the flap was not secured. He moved it just enough to see his bedroll had not been laid out and was laying across the entrance. Not only had Alistair not unrolled it, he hadn't even been in his tent. In order to enter it, he would have had to move the bedroll. Now, he was concerned. He returned to the fire as Leliana examined the cooking pot. 

"Alistair is not in his tent." Zevran said. "In fact, it has not been slept in nor even entered." 

Leliana looked up. "But then where is he?" 

Zevran heard a soft rustle and Kathryn emerged from her tent. She was generally the last one to bed and the last one up, typical behavior of the nobility. 

"Morning, Kathryn." Leliana said. "Do you know where Alis… Oh! Morning, Alistair!" She said with eyes wide and a knowing look to Zevran as Alistair emerged from the tent behind Kathryn. 

Marvelous! Zevran thought. He looked at the two of them. He could tell it had been a successful evening for both of them. They looked relaxed and happy, awash in the afterglow of lovemaking. He was actually impressed, for to bring a woman to release her first time takes some talent and discipline. 

He was glad to see them so happy. He felt his own sorrow wash over him. He was not one to regret or linger over the past, life is too short and fleeting to waste but he allowed himself the indulgence of grief for just a moment and then pushed it aside. 

"Ah, Good Morning, my friend but it seems I do not have to tell you it is such." Zevran said to Alistair with a smile. "But please do all of us a favor and stop Leliana from fixing breakfast. She looks at the cooking pot as alternately an enemy and a fashion accessory." 

"Ah… right." Alistair said and hurried over to Leliana and within moments had taken the cooking apparatus away from her. 

41.4 Kathryn 

Kathryn headed out to the small stream to fill their water skins before they pulled up camp. She had been suffering under the knowing looks of Leliana and Zevran and the rolled eyes of Morrigan, but in truth she did not care for she was happy. There was something bothering her but she couldn't figure out what it was. She sat by the stream and began filling the skins. 

"You spent the night with him." Roland said. That's what had been bothering her. She hadn't seen Roland this morning. She heard the accusatory edge in his voice and felt her chest tighten. She looked up and saw that he was sitting a small distance from her. He looked horrible and for a moment she thought he might be drunk, but he wasn't. She wondered if he had slept. She knew he would not take the knowledge that she and Alistair had lain together well but she had not expected… this. She stood and walked up to him. He didn't look at her but kept staring forward. 

"Yes, I did." She said and waited for his reproach. No doubt he would not approve of her spending the night with anyone, or anyone that wasn't him, but he would frame it in terms of her reputation and virtue, her position in society and her responsibility as the Teyrna of Highever. 'How could she sully her reputation with a bastard son of a serving girl? Had she no respect for her name and family?' This was going to get ugly. 

"You asked me once if being with someone had made a man out of me." He said. 

"I remember." She said looking back to a time that seemed another lifetime ago. "You said it did but not in the way you expected and that it was difficult to explain to one who had not had that experience." 

He looked up at her. "Yes, that's exactly what I said. But I see I do not need to explain it to you now, do I? For it has made a woman out of you. You look different. Better. Stronger. Powerful." He looked down. "Beautiful." 

"Roland…" She started. 

"Do you love him?" He asked. 

"Yes, I do." She said. 

"I see that. I didn't before. Maybe I didn't want to." He said. "He is a good man." 

"Yes, he is." She said, somewhat confused. This conversation was not going any way that she had imagined. 

Roland took a deep breath. "I have to leave you… your company. I can't stay any longer. I cannot watch you and him together. I… I spent too many years, dreaming of you, too many nights full of longing to watch you be with someone else. I… hate that fact, that I cannot be happy for you, but I can't. I've tried." 

"I don't like the person I have become. This… anger and bitterness is poison to my heart and mind and my very soul, I think. I… need some time, some space to get past it all. I can't do that here, not when it feels like my heart is getting ripped open every time I look at you." He stared at the ground. "I hope you will understand, and that you will one day forgive me for abandoning you but I have to do this." 

Kathryn sat down next to him. "I understand. But there is nothing to forgive. I cannot hold against you a desire to move on with your life." She swallowed hard. "I wish it hadn't come to this. I am so… sorry." She stopped and blinked hard. "What will you do?" 

"I will travel with the merchants. They can use another warrior. They intend to proceed up the mountain but will leave before the snows and then go north, through Highever and Amaranthine and on to Denerim and after that… I don't know." He said. 

"Will I ever see you again?" She asked. 

"I hope so." He said. "If I can, I will find you. I do wish to see this through but… not now." She took out her purse. "No, Kathryn, you need all the funds you can get." He said. 

"I insist. This is your fair share. Please, take it." She held out the coins and when he did not take them, she took his hand and placed the coins into it, closing his fingers around them and holding it in hers. 

"Thank you." He said looking her in the eyes. "You should get going. You have a lot of ground to cover." 

"Goodbye, Roland." She said, knowing there was so much more to say and that she couldn't say it, not now. 

"Goodbye, Kathryn." He said. It tore at her heart, how final it sounded. 

She stood and collected the water skins. She started back and then stopped and turned back to Roland. "There is something you can do for me, something of a personal favor." She said. 

"What is it?" Roland asked. 

41.5 Alistair 

Kathryn had returned from filling the water skins. She put them in the cart and rubbed her forehead. She was upset. Alistair walked over to her. "Is everything all right?" He asked. 

"Yes, I… I… no, no it isn't." She said. 

"What is it?" He asked concerned. 

"Roland..." she said. 

"Oh." Alistair said. He had known that Roland would not be pleased with what had happened between him and Kathryn. Alistair had been ready for a confrontation but as bad as he suspected one between him and Roland would be, he had hoped to save Kathryn from this. For it didn't look like it had gone well. "He didn't... I mean... what did he say?" He asked. 

"He... he's leaving. He isn't coming with us." She said. 

"What?" Of all the things he had expected, this was not one of them, and while he was relieved despite himself, he wasn't going to allow him to leave in a place he wasn't safe. "But he can't just stay here. What does he intend to do?" He said, concerned. 

"He will travel with the merchants. They can use him." She said. 

"Will he be all right?" He asked, now more concerned for his state of mind than his physical well-being. 

"I… hope… I don't know." She said distraught. He knew it was hard for her, not only to lose her oldest friend but she blamed herself for how things had gone, and the obvious plain she had caused Roland. 

"It's probably for the best. No doubt it is the best for him." He said. 

"I know, but I don't have to like it." She said. 

He brushed his cheek with his hand. "Come on. We need to get a move on." He said. 

They gathered up the rest of their things and got ready to leave. Kathryn collected and placed Roland's belongings along with a few supplies in his tent. With nothing else to be done, they headed out. 

Chapter 42: Seventeenth Camp 

Shape 

42.1 Kathryn 

They stopped at a small village to rest, get supplies and gather any news. Kathryn thought it a wonderful place for a village since she could use some rest. While she was only in slight discomfort, the walking was not helping. She sent everyone off with tasks and sat under a tree. 

She considered speaking to Wynne, for she had mentioned that the mages in the tower sometimes kept each other 'company,' but that births in the tower were seldom since there were ways to prevent them. While the chances of her being with child after the previous night were low, she was aware there were no guarantees in such things. However, Wynne disapproved of their relationship and would no doubt disapprove of such activities and may not be willing to assist them. 

Morrigan sat down next to her and started putting small amounts of several powders into a bottle. 

"Let me guess…" she said, as she opened another vial and then stopped. "'Twas your first time with a man. No doubt he rushed you, but despite that it started out pleasant enough. However after being subjected to his over exertions, it became tiresome and then uncomfortable. He, oblivious to all but himself, continued on with his gratification and left you bruised and unsatisfied." 

"Well, I wouldn't…" Kathryn started. 

"'Tis a common enough story. Such acts can be enjoyable but first a woman must learn to take charge of their own pleasure and to never rely on a man for it." Morrigan said. 

"I will remember that." Kathryn said. "But that isn't exactly what happened. It was my first time and it started out uncomfortable but it got better, a lot better, in fact and afterwards I was fine and quite satisfied. But today, the walking has been… trying." 

"Truly." Morrigan said surprised. "I would never have guessed. 'Twould seem he has hidden… talents, and apparently is not as much of a buffoon as I thought." She put the powder away without adding it to the bottle. She took out a different one and added a small amount and then filled the bottle with distill agent and swirled the mixture. It turned a dark purple. "Here. 'Tis best if taken in one drink. The taste is not pleasant. 'Twill help a little with the discomfort, although I would also suggest a shot of strong liquor but 'twill make sure there are no… unintended consequences." 

"Thank you." Kathryn said and took the foul tasting potion in one gulp. 

"If you wish to repeat your activities, I can make more. 'Tis most effective if taken just prior but 'twill still work if taken up to a day after." Morrigan said. 

"Yes, I would appreciate it." Kathryn said as she handed the bottle back to Morrigan. "How do you know about such things?" 

Morrigan laughed. "Such potions are the main reason Flemeth and I survived. Several times a year a woman will brave the wilds to talk to the 'witch' and get such a potion or its opposite. Many women desperately wish a child or just as desperately wish to not have one or wish to rid themselves of one. Although that is more difficult, 'tis easier to prevent such from happening. Conception is a delicate business and although your chances are slim, best to be cautious, yes?" 

"Why would you say the chances are slim?" Kathryn asked. 

"Oh… ah… um… the fighting and travel, are physically demanding and not conducive to conceiving a child or carrying one to birth, to lose a child is strenuous on the body to say the least. It would be best for you to not have that happen." Morrigan said. 

"Yes." Kathryn said thoughtful. "I would have thought you would get more requests for love potions." 

Morrigan considered. "There is some of that, 'tis true. They wish to make a man fall in love or get back a man's attentions. That I never understood. Men are such simple creatures, so easy to manipulate especially as a woman and there are so many of them. One is just as good as any other. But they foolishly fancy themselves in love." She said with scorn and then smiled. "But the very same woman will return desiring their 'love' to be torn to bits, or covered with boils or worse if they do not do what they wish." Morrigan shook her head. "Love is an illusion, and you would do well to remember that." 

"I do not believe that and I suspect neither do you." Kathryn said. 

"I most certainly do, and you will come to see the truth of it, in time." Morrigan said. 

"No doubt, you said the same of friendship once." Kathryn said with a smile. "You may not believe in love but there is a part of you that hopes you are wrong." 

"I… I… you… I… will leave if you continue to speak such drivel." Morrigan said. 

"Yes, I thought as much." Kathryn said. "You have simply not met your match." 

"And you have?" Morrigan asked incredulous. "He is nothing like you." 

"No, of course not, we are very different but we complement each other and that is better, much better than just a male version of me. I would probably find such a man insufferable." Kathryn said with a smile. "Perhaps I am deceived, believing in an illusion or a fantasy… but it is a good one and with things the way that they are, perhaps even a necessary one." 

42.2 Alistair 

Alistair was looking for Wynne. The village wasn't that big, but somehow she was eluding him. Kathryn was in some discomfort. She hadn't said but he could tell and he knew that was because of the prior nights activities and he wanted to help her. Wynne had mentioned she had had a son, so he figured she must know about such things and hoped she would know something that could help. 

Wynne was just coming out of the store with some supplies. "Wynne? Could you… talk to Kathryn?" He said. 

"I can certainly, but what about?" Wynne said. Then he remembered that Wynne hadn't been there when they came out of the tent. She didn't know they had spent the night together. 

"Oh… I…" He said unsure. 

"Did something happen between the two of you?" Wynne asked. 

"Yes, it did. She might need... you know…" He said. 

"Healing?" Wynne said looking confused and then alarmed. "Why does she need healing? You… didn't…" 

"NO! I… I mean… she does need healing, I think. But I didn't… well, I did… I guess, but it wasn't like that." Alistair said. Wynne looked at him even more confused. 

Oh, why can't he just admit that they spent the night together? Because he had been taught not to do this very thing, threatened with divine punishment if he did, in fact. Telling Wynne felt like admitting it to one of the sisters. But it wasn't like he was ashamed of it. He truly felt that in the sight of the Maker, they had done nothing wrong. Moreover, Kathryn was in pain and he would do whatever he needed to do to help her. Even admit something to someone he didn't want to. 

He took a deep breath, "Kathryn and I spent the night together last night." He could see the look in Wynne's eyes but didn't know what it meant, and wasn't sure he wanted to. 

"I see." Wynne said. 

"She seemed fine afterwards but now she's… in pain. I… I thought maybe you could do something for her, give her a potion or something." Alistair said. 

Wynne looked grave, then sighed and asked. "When did the pain start?" 

"There was some, I think, at first but then she seemed fine till today with the walking." He said. 

"Well, it doesn't sound like she's injured." Wynne said. "There isn't much to be done for that but rest, which she can't do now. I know of a potion but I don't have the ingredients and its effect for that is minimal anyway. The best I can say is a good shot or two of whiskey." 

"Whiskey. I can do that. Thank you." She smiled and Alistair turned towards the tavern. 

"Alistair." Wynne called after him. 

"Yes?" He said. 

"That's perfectly normal. You didn't do anything wrong." Wynne said. Alistair sighed and looked relieved. He nodded and then headed to the tavern. 

42.3 Kathryn 

Morrigan looked up and said "Apparently it is true what they say… that you should be wary of speaking of a fool, for they are bound to turn up." Kathryn looked up to see Alistair walking towards them with a bottle. Morrigan stood. "I shall leave him to you, since you have a higher tolerance for such than I." She walked off glaring at Alistair who looked as though he had taken a bite of rotten meat. 

"What did she want?" He said. 

"Nothing, we were just talking." Kathryn said. 

Alistair handed her the bottle. "Here. Take this. It should… help." 

"Help what? I don't…" She said. 

"You aren't that good of an actress." Alistair said. 

Kathryn sighed and smiled at him. "Thank you." She took a drink. 

"You can tell me, you know. I… I want to know if you're hurt or tired or anything. I want to help, if I can. You know that, right?" He said. 

"Yes, I do. I just… alright." Kathryn said. 

Alistair looked after Morrigan and then turned back to Kathryn. "Did she give you something, a potion?" He asked. 

"Yes." She said and looked at him curiously. 

"I'd be wary of taking anything Morrigan gave me." He said. 

"I'd be wary of taking anything she gave you too." Kathryn said smiling. 

"Is it supposed to… help?" He said. 

"Yes, and also to make sure there were no unintended consequences." She said. 

"Unintended… oh, right. I guess I should have mentioned that earlier." Alistair said. 

"What do you mean?" Kathryn said. 

"Well…" Alistair looked around and saw that the rest of their companions were heading towards them. "…now might not be the best time… later. We'll talk later." 

42.4 Alistair 

They were done setting up camp and everyone was getting settled. Alistair took his bedroll from the cart, but he wasn't sure what to do with it. There was 'sleeping together' and then there was just sleeping together. Tonight Kathryn needed rest and he had first watch, so not going to 'sleep together' but he still wished to sleep together. Falling asleep and waking up with her in his arms had been wonderful. 

But what if she didn't want that, to just sleep with him. He didn't want to assume and intrude. It was her tent and she hadn't exactly formally invited him to share it with her. Maybe he was over thinking again or maybe just nervous since this was all so new to him. He carefully placed the bedroll next to the entrance to her tent and hoped she would notice it. 

She was making her rounds. He watched as she talked to everyone, watched how each one of them looked better after talking to her. She had that effect on people. Somehow she knew what each of them needed to thrive and she gave it to them, whether encouragement or leadership, friendship or confidence, direction or redemption. She was amazing really, inspiring with her courage, compassion and confidence. All of them, including him, would do anything for her, they all believed in her, for above all she gave them hope. 

But what did he have to offer her? She cared for him, loved him even. She had his devotion and his love but while she may want him, she didn't need him, not the way he needed her. He had always wanted a partner someone he could be there for as they were there for him, but this wasn't exactly it. She gave him everything and he had nothing to give her. So what happens when she realizes that, then what? 

Kathryn walked over to where he was and sat down. "I saw that your bedroll was strategically placed next to my tent." 

"Yes, I… I guess whoever put it there wasn't sure what to do with it." He said. 

"You think so." She said. 

"Well, you do need to rest tonight and maybe you only want to share when we were going to do more than sleep. I might snore or something. I don't, do I?" He said. 

"No, you don't." She said. "It is possible that they might have thought you would prefer to sleep in your own tent if we aren't going to do anything more than sleeping. I could snore, but I don't, right?" 

"No, you don't." He said. "But I'm sure whoever put it there was only wondering if you wanted to share, because they would know that I would want to or else they wouldn't have put it next to your tent but next to mine. Besides you do have a nicer tent." He said. 

"Hmmm… true." She got up and started towards her tent and then turned back to him. "Well, don't forget it when you come to bed." 

He smiled with relief. "I won't." He said, as he watched her disappear into their tent. 

This was going to be the longest watch ever. 

42.5 Alistair 

Alistair's time on watch was finally over. He grabbed his bedroll and slipped quietly into the tent. But as it turned out, he needn't have bothered. Kathryn was sitting on the bedroll. She had her journal in front of her but she wasn't reading it, in fact it was turned to a blank page, instead she was staring at the ground. She looked up as he entered, a bit surprised to see him. He could see her eyes were red. "I thought you had first watch." She said in a voice not steady. She wiped her face and looked away from him, seemingly trying to get a better grip on herself. 

"I did. It's over." He said. "Have you been sitting here this whole time?" 

"I… guess." She said unsure. He took off his armor and sat down next to her. She looked up at him and tried to smile. He looked at the journal and then back to her. She sighed and then said. "I was… writing everything in my journal, as I do, just to keep a record, so I don't forget anything." She took a deep breath and continued with some effort. "I started writing about… Roland, where he left us and with who, and I started thinking about… Father, Mother, Fergus, Oriana, Oren... I've lost them all and now… Roland. I… never thought he'd… leave me. I understand that he had to, but… to lose them all." She said and looked away. 

"I know." Alistair said. He had lost Duncan and the other Grey Wardens but that only given him a taste of what she felt, what she had lost and gone through. 

She didn't look courageous or confident now but afraid and lost. This all had taken a toll on her. A toll he now understood she had kept hidden from everyone including him, at least until now. She was allowing him to see her like this, see what she had endured and suffered and what all this had cost her. Perhaps she knew that he was strong enough now that he didn't need her to be strong for him anymore, and that he would still love her even if at times she was weak and afraid. At least he hoped that was the case. 

She looked to him and asked in a voice much like a child's. "Everything will be all right, won't it?" 

She had given him so much and now it was his chance to give something back to her. As much as he had wanted this, for a moment he was terrified. No one had ever needed or even wanted his love or support before. The weight of the immense responsibility washed over him but then it was gone and he was left with the thought… 'I can do this.' 

He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes and said. "Yes, it will. We will find a way. The blight will be defeated. The civil war will end. There will be costs, and not all will survive, but we will go on. We will make it through." 

She stared at him a long time, her eyes searching his face, looking deep into his eyes. Finally she said. "I believe you." He wrapped his arms around her as she put her head on his shoulder. She held tightly onto his arm until she fell asleep. 

42.6 Kathryn 

As the dawning light began to creep across the sky, Kathryn watched Alistair sleep. Going over every line of his face, carving it into her memory. He started to twitch and move and then opened his eyes. 

She smiled at him. "Morning." 

"Morning." He said. She could see the relief in his eyes as he saw that she was better. His concern dissolved into a smile. 

She touched the side of his face. "Thank you." She said. 

"For what?" He asked. 

"For just… being you." She said. 

"I'm rather good at that." He said with a smile. 

"You are, indeed. Much better at it than anyone else." She said and smiled. "I know without any question that you have my back. If I falter, you'll catch me. If I fall, you'll pick me up and if you can't, you'll continue on. You don't know what that means to me." He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, then she leaned forward and kissed him. 

Reluctantly they got up and got dressed. Kathryn started to open the tent and then stopped. "You said yesterday that you should have mentioned something before, something about unintended consequences." She said. 

"Right…" He said looking like he'd rather not. "Well, not only does the taint shorten your life, there are other effects and one of them is that Grey Wardens don't really have children. I… I don't know the specifics. When I found out, it didn't mean anything to me. I mean, I never thought I'd ever have any anyway. A templar can get married and have children but you have no way to support them, you can't even live with them and I would want to be with… Anyway, all I know is, that all the Grey Wardens I knew who had children had them before they took the joining and that even one parent having tainted blood makes having a child difficult, if not impossible. So, for the two of us…" He stopped. "That's not really something we have to worry about." 

Kathryn considered. "That's almost funny in a way. As a noble woman, that was one of the main consideration for marriage, your ability to bear a noble's children. I…" She took a deep breath. The Maker did have a sense of humor, it was said and at times it is a cruel one. She had always wanted to do something important with her life, something more than just having a family. So many women, that was all that they wanted and she had wondered if something wasn't wrong with her to not want that as they did. But now it seemed with her choice made and her fate set, it was just that she had never meet anyone whose children she wanted to have. 

She considered and then asked. "But it is possible, yes?" 

"Possible, I believe so, yes. But it isn't recommended for a Grey Warden to have a child. I know that." He said. 

"All the Grey Wardens you knew were men, correct?" She said. 

"Yes, that's true." He said. "So I don't know if or how it might be different for women. To be honest, I'm not sure anyone really does since there are so few female Grey Wardens." Alistair looked down, started to say something and then stopped and started again. "I… I would want to… with you, if we… could. You know that, right?" 

"Yes, I know." She said with a forced smile. 

42.8 Alistair 

They had made good time today. If fact, if there were no delays, they would reach Redcliffe sometime tomorrow. 

They had retired to their tent… 'their' tent. While it had only been a day or so, he now thought of it as 'their' tent. He really liked the sound of that. He watched as Kathryn finished laying out her bedroll on his and then began undressing. He watched as she removed her gloves, boots and armor, knowing he probably shouldn't but not being able to look away. He was getting rather… excited by it all. As she began to remove her leggings, he turned around. 

Last night, it hadn't been a problem. She was hurting and vulnerable and he didn't want to take advantage or do anything to cause her anymore pain. But tonight, she seemed fine. Although he didn't know that for sure, nor did he know if she was even interested in lying with him. He just needed to think about something else besides the fact that she was nearly naked and right behind him. 

Cheese. He would think about cheese. He loved cheese, fine cheeses, especially the one with apples, liked apples, the slightly tart ones, that were the perfect size to fit in your hand, firm ones, with their stems sticking up… no, not that. Need to think of something else. Brandy. Fine, Antivan brandy, much like red wine… she had tasted of red wine… her mouth with her lips soft as tongue had… something else… Swords! Swords and combat moves. Go over training routines. Guard, turn, parry, dodge, spin, thrust… thrust... thrusting sword into the soft flesh of… okay, maybe not… put the sword back in its sheath… no, really need to think of something else! 

He tried to focus on getting undressed, taking off his gloves, boots, armor, and his undershirt, but it hadn't helped. If he got undressed in this… condition, and if she didn't want to… well… it would just be awkward. He could sleep in his breeches but that would seem odd considering he hadn't before. He just had to calm down. 

He took a couple deep breaths. Then he felt her walk up behind him. He could feel her touching his back with her fingers, lightly tracing along the muscles in his shoulders. That was not helping his predicament. She stepped up beside him. He was breathing too hard. He told himself not to look at her but out of the corner of his eye he saw that she was dressed only in her undershirt and that really wasn't helping. 

She waited and he was forced to look at her. She said. "I thought that maybe… if you could… and if you wanted… you know…" 

Alistair looked at her curiously. He couldn't figure out what she was trying to… oh, wait. She wasn't actually… Maker's Breath! She was trying to ask him if he wanted to lie with her! He suppressed the smile he felt and decided to play dumb. He could shrug and look stupid with the best of them. "I don't know what you mean." He said looking very confused. 

"Well, I'm fine… I feel fine tonight… I mean… and I thought if you were able… then maybe…" She said. 

"Maybe… what? Look, just say whatever it is. It can't be that bad, can it?" He said trying to look very concerned. 

"No, it isn't anything bad, I just…" She said and sighed. 

"You just what?" He said having to fight smiling at her embarrassment and frustration. 

"I was just asking if you were able and wanted to… you know…" She said flustered. 

"No, I don't." He said, looking very confused. "Just tell me." 

"I am… trying to… I…" She stopped and looked at him. "You're just playing with me, aren't you?" 

"I don't know what you mean." He said. 

"Yes, you do." She said folding her arms. "You know exactly what I mean and are just being difficult." She said. 

"Maybe I am, or maybe I just want to hear you say it." He said with a smile. 

"And here I was worried about embarrassing you and being discrete." She said. "I thought that men needed time between exertions to... recover." 

"Yes, but not that much. If it makes you feel better, I'm very able to now and definitely want to." He said. 

She smiled. "It does a little. Fine." She took a deep breath and let it out slow. "Do you wish to lie with me tonight?" 

"Why you minx! I am shocked and appalled at such behavior! To proposition me like this… I cannot believe it! What kind of man do you think..." He said. 

"Oh… just… get undressed already!" She said as she pulled off her shirt and threw it at him. She laid down on the bedroll and looked at him impatiently. He laughed and tossed the shirt aside, hurriedly took off the rest of his clothes and laid down next to her. 

"So how much time do you need to recover?" She asked in between kisses. 

"Well, right after I don't think so, but not that long after." He said. 

"Is that so?" She said. 

"Well, I believe so, but I guess I don't know that for certain." He said. 

She smiled and said. "Not yet." 

Chapter 43: Redcliffe Part I 

43.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn listened as Teagan recounted to Arl Eamon all that had happened while he had been unconscious: the attack on Highever, the defeat of the army at Ostagar, the death of Cailan, the betrayal of Loghain, the assaults on the village, his own attempted assassination, Connor's possession, Isolde's deception, the civil war and, last but not least, the Blight. 

It was a lot to take in. The Arl didn't ask any questions or give any indication that he heard Teagan speaking but stared forward stoically if sadly. Her father had always spoken well of Arl Eamon. She just hoped that in this most desperate of times, Eamon would prove worthy of her father's high opinion of him. 

Once Teagan had finished, Eamon walked to the fire and stared at it for quite a while. As they waited, she looked to the back of the room where Alistair was standing. He had retreated there after the Arl had been awakened looking relieved but uncomfortable. Kathryn had not realized how she had grown accustomed to him standing beside her, and she missed it. 

Finally, the Arl spoke. "This is most troubling." He turned back around. "There is much to be done, that is true. But I should first be thankful to those who have done so much." He looked to Kathryn. "Not only have you saved my life but kept my family safe as well. I am in your debt. Will you permit me to offer you a reward for your service?" 

"If you wish, I will not object." Kathryn said. Even in the most desperate of times the nobility always had the curtosy, customs and traditions of their class to fall back on. They provided a familar recourse, and something to say no matter the situation for the worst thing one could be as a noble was at a loss for words. 

"Then allow me to declare you and those traveling with you champions of Redcliffe. You will always be a welcome guest within these halls." He said with warm sincerity. "And for you, a shield of the same make as those that have been given to our finest knights." 

"Thank you, your grace." She said. 

"No, please, call me Eamon, for if anyone should defer it should be me to you, for all you have done and the great responsibility that you have assumed." He said. 

"Thank you and please, call me Kathryn." She said. 

Eamon smiled. "Thank you. We have met before when you were a child and then upon your presentation at court, however the woman before me bears only passing resemblance to the nervous girl you were then. Your father always spoke in the highest terms of you and I must say that in all of this terrible news to hear that you have survived and now lead the fight against the Blight and Loghain, gives me hope." 

"I will do my best to prove worthy of his words and your faith." She said. 

He sighed and said with emotion."If you will allow me to say that I am most sorry to hear about your parents. Eleanor was a wonderful woman and I considered Bryce a friend, a good friend. He was an excellent man, one of character and strength. His counsel, wisdom and leadership would be most helpful now. I shall indeed miss them." 

"Thank you," Kathryn said. 

"I hope not to upset you further but must ask after your brother?" Eamon said. 

"Unfortunately, I do not know his fate. He was not in the battle itself so it is possible he survived. But I have not heard anything from him nor anything about him. Although it is likely that he would assume I am dead and is in hiding." Kathryn said. 

"Are you all that survive of your order?" He asked. 

"As far as we know, we are all that remain in Ferelden. All of the others, including Duncan, died on the battlefield with Cailan." Kathryn said. 

"Duncan was a good man… I… wait… if all…" Eamon looked concerned. "There was a man, a young man, by the name of Alistair, who had joined the order only months before the battle… do you know… did he also…?" 

"No, Eamon." Kathryn looked to where Alistair was standing. "He's fine." 

Eamon followed Kathryn's gaze and then looked intently at Alistair. Eamon seemed confused for a moment and then smiled, relieved. "Ah, yes I see now… you have changed a great deal and yet… I am glad you… are well." 

"Thank you, your grace." Alistair said looking even more uncomfortable than before. 

Teagan interceeded and asked about Loghain. Eamon seemed nearly overcome with anger and sadness at what had apparently become of him. "But whatever happened to him, Loghain must be stopped. What's more, we cannot afford to fight this war to its end." He looked thoughtful and then continued. "I need time to consider our options and decide on a course of action. But before we proceed, I believe there is the matter of the mage… my son's tutor. He still lives, I understand." 

"He does. He is in the dungeon, Brother." Teagan said. 

"Have him brought here, Teagan. I wish to see him." Eamon said. 

43.2 Jowan 

Jowan was sitting in his cell, studying the familiar cracks in the stone walls. He had thought being in the tower was constraining. He had seen nothing but the inside of this cell for what must be weeks now, though he had stopped counting the days long ago. He knew he would die, it was just a question of when and by whom. He had long since resigned himself to that. But still he waited. 

With the solitude he had time to think, about all that had brought him to this place, a small dungeon cell, waiting for death. At first he blamed the Maker. He had given him this curse of magic. Something he never wanted and that had done nothing but ruin his life, cause him to be rejected by his family, to be thought of as an abomination by his mother and given to the chantry, just given away like used clothes that are too small. It occurred to him that he didn't even know if Jowan was his real name. It seemed that his entire life was a cruel joke, designed to make him suffer. He had been so angry at the Maker. However one time striking the stone wall with his fist, lessened his rage considerably. 

As the days came and went, he realized that while he couldn't help that he was a mage or that he had been brought to the tower, there were things he could have done differently. There had been decisions he had made that might not have been the best, like practicing blood magic. He had discovered a couple of the Scrolls of Banister while looking through the books on demons. He hadn't been looking for anything like that. He wasn't even all that interested in demons. He had just heard about the more accurate depictions of desire demons from some of the other initiates. If he had not known about the collection of Antivan romances and the copy of the illustrated Amrak Artus hidden in the library, he never would have found the Scrolls, and never become a blood mage. 

He should have known better, and really he did. Part of it was being the only one who knew they were there. That he had discovered something he wasn't supposed to, the lure of the forbidden. It was a way to rebel, to strike back at the circle and the templars by doing something he wasn't supposed to and getting away with it. It was complete stupidity to risk his life for that, but through that he had had a taste of freedom. 

Then there was the fact that he wasn't a very good mage. Some people are just better at magic than others and some aren't very good at all and he was one of the latter. Even the easiest spells, he had difficulty with and it seemed the harder he tried and the more he practiced the worse it got. He could see the worried looks on the faces of his instructors. He had thought that maybe the blood magic would give him a boost, but it had all backfired. 

Then there was Lily, his poor Lily. He knew better than that too. Not that he could have stopped himself falling in love but he should have left her alone and not tried to pursue a relationship with her. It was going to end badly, that was guaranteed, he just didn't know it could go that badly. It had been selfish of him, and even more so when he had convinced her to escape with him, to leave all that she had known. He knew that she would never forgive his practice of blood magic, even when he used it to try and protect her. She rejected him when she had found out, preferring to go to prison than escape with him. Not that escaping had done him any good. It was all running and being afraid, jumping at every noise. He hadn't thought anything could be worse than the constant scrutiny of the templars but he had been wrong, being hunted by them was far worse. 

He had been so desperate that he had allowed himself to be convinced to poison a man, to become a murderer. How could he be that stupid, that gullible? Or was it that he so wanted to believe that he could make amends, make up for his crime, that he could set things right, that there was a way out? And then things had gotten even worse. Connor, poor sweet Connor, possessed and the deaths of so many villagers, all of it hanging over his head. 

He had tried to fight, tried to escape, to flee, to fight his fate, but he now knew that is a losing battle. All he had to show for himself is all the grief and sorrow he had helped create. But it wouldn't go on any longer. He couldn't help those who had already suffered, like his poor Lily, but he hoped one day she and all the rest would forgive him. He wasn't a bad person, really he wasn't, just stupid and a bit gullible and more than a little desperate. 

But one can only wallow in regret for so long. Out of boredom more than anything else, he had practiced his spells. With nothing but time, no distractions, no templars, without the resentment or the pressure, he had finally figured out what he had been doing wrong. 

Among other things, and there had been a number, he had simply been trying too hard. He had been trying to force the magic to work through him instead of allowing the magic to flow through him. The key was controlling the amount and being able to direct its form. Once he had figured that out, it all became so much easier. It had still taken a lot of practice but over time spells he had struggled with for years became easy. Ones he had never thought to attempt he was able to do with little effort. The irony is that with his new mastery of magic he could probably survive the Harrowing. He had already defeated a demon in the fade, the Harrowing couldn't be any harder than that, but it was too late. His only option to avoid execution was to escape but he would have to fight his way out and he didn't want to risk hurting anyone else. He had already done enough. 

He heard the door open. It wasn't meal time, and that was the only time anyone came down here, if then. More than one day had passed when no one had remembered to feed him, but if someone was coming down here now, something must have happened. Maybe the Arl had finally succumbed. He hoped not, he really did. 

He stood and waited as the guard opened his cell, "Arl wants to see you, so mind yourself." The Arl was awake! Thank the Maker for that. Whether the Arl was alive or dead, his fate would be the same, but he was grateful he had survived. Regardless, it was finally over. He realized that he felt more relieved than anything. He had thought about and even practiced what to say when this time came, so that he could die with some dignity. More than he had ever shown in his life. 

They walked up to the main hall. He saw the Arl standing at the end. The Warden was also there with several others from her party. She must have figured out a way to cure the Arl. He was glad she was there. It was nice to see a friendly face or at least a non-hostile one. He faced the Arl and waited. 

"Jowan. What you have done is not in question. You tried to assassinate me and set into motion a series of events that nearly destroyed everything I cherish. What have you to say in your own defense?" The arl said. His voice was harsh and should be, he thought. 

"Nothing, my lord… other than to say I am sorry. I expect no mercy for what I have done." Jowan said. Yes, that sounded good and sincere and not fearful. He wanted the Arl to know he was truly sorry and maybe one day he would forgive him. 

"I see." The arl turned to the warden. "Kathryn, have you anything to say on Jowan's behalf?" Jowan had never heard her name before. 'Kathryn' was a beautiful name and it fit her. 

"Yes, I do." Kathryn said. "I believe that he is earnest in his regret and in his desire to repent and make amends. I do not believe that his crime was committed out of any mal intent but at most desperation. He is not the first and unfortunately will not be the last to be deceived by Loghain. I believe that this and his actions in saving Connor should be taken into consideration." 

Maker bless you. Jowan thought. For her to speak up for him like that, not that it would change anything, but it was good of her. 

"Oh? That is… unexpected." Eamon said startled. "And what would you have me do? As the injured party, my ability to see the merciful path is… strained." 

Kathryn considered and then said. "Might I suggest that you release him into my custody." 

Eamon, Teagan, and Alistair said nearly in unison. "What?!" Jowan would have joined in the chorus if he hadn't been too stunned by what she had said to speak. 

"Eamon, as you can see my party is not large. With the other Grey Wardens having been killed and us outlawed, lies spread about us and a bounty on our heads, I can't be as choosy as I might like of where I get assistance. I list among my companions murders, apostates and assassins who despite their deeds and pasts are now fighting the Blight. I believe that Jowan, as a mage that defeated a demon in the Fade there by saving Connor's life, can be of use to me." 

"But did he do that just to save himself?" Eamon said unconvinced. 

"With all due respect, I do not believe that matters for the result is the same. Whether he is willing to fight to save his life or make amends or defeat the Blight, all that concerns me is that he is willing to fight. Killing him or giving him to the circle to be made tranquil, helps no one and our cause not at all. I know you would agree that at times there are more important things than vengeance or even justice." Kathryn said. 

Eamon considered for several moments. "Teagan, your thoughts on this… proposal." 

Teagan sighed. "Well, while I am not comfortable with releasing a blood mage, a maleficar, under any circumstance and especially one who has caused such harm. Jowan did save Connor's life. He has not tried to escape nor made any trouble for us. But more importantly, Kathryn has done nothing but act with the utmost honor and purpose. The burden she bears is immense and the task before her unimaginable. If she thinks he can be of any use to her… I am inclined to allow him to go with her." 

"I see." Eamon said. "Against my better judgment, I will allow it. Jowan, you will be released into the Warden's custody upon her leaving the Arling of Redcliffe in order that you may aid her in the fight against the Blight. Until then, you shall stay in the dungeon." 

"Thank you, my lord." Jowan was able to say. 

"Take him back to his cell." Eamon said. 

43.3 Kathryn 

"Now with that done." Eamon said. "I need to go to the village and see its condition. I am sure that all of you could use some rest, a bath and a good meal. That will give me some time to consider a course of action. Afterwards, we will discuss and make our plans, if that is acceptable?" Eamon asked. 

"Perfectly." Kathryn replied. 

"And I do hope that you all will stay another day, and allow me to prepare a suitable feast. I insist on being a good host and feeding you properly before you leave." He said. 

"That would be appreciated, thank you." She said. 

"Good. You all have the run of the castle, anything that you need just ask. The servants will show you to your rooms and bring up your things. Come Teagan, let us go to the village." He said. 

Eamon and Teagan left the hall. Leliana and Zevran said that they would get some dinner. Wynne wished to rest in her room. Morrigan was intrigued by the idea of a hot bath and Kathryn agreed. As the rest left the hall, she turned to see Alistair standing behind her. 

"You recruited him!" He said incredulous. 

"Yes, you know I did. You were there." She said. 

"Why would you do that?" He asked. 

"He is a powerful mage." She said. 

"…a blood mage!" He said. 

"He defeated a demon alone in the Fade. You can't tell me that ability won't be useful." She said. 

He let out a sigh. "Why didn't you tell me you were thinking about recruiting him?" 

"Because I wasn't. Eamon asked what to do with him and it occurred to me that he had skills and power that could be useful and we need all the help we can get. Having him killed or made tranquil helps no one, least of all us." She said. 

"He's a blood mage! You can't trust a blood mage. He has studied and practiced forbidden arts. There are reasons they are forbidden, strictly forbidden, and he did it anyway. He poisoned the Arl! Tried to kill him just to save his own skin." He said. 

"I'll grant you he has made some bad decisions but he is trying to atone. He was told he was helping the country and he saved Connor." She said. 

"He didn't have a choice! What was he supposed to do when you asked him to go? Refuse? And once he is there it's either the demon or him and we know his thoughts on that topic." He said. 

"He'll be useful." She said. 

"And dangerous!" He said. "I didn't say anything when you allowed an apostate to join us and then recruited the assassin trying to kill us but this…" 

"First of all, you did object to both of them and might I add they have both proven useful." She said. 

"So far." He said. 

"I know you can't get past the blood mage part but I do think he is a good man, who has made some bad decisions out of desperation and I truly believe he will be helpful to us." She said. 

"No, you can't just discount my objection saying it's only because I'm a templar." He said. 

"I'm not, Alistair, I'm not discounting it at all. You know that I value your opinion above anyone else's." She said. 

"Except your own." He said. 

"I have to trust my own and do what I think is best." She said. 

"Even if it is a subject that I know more about than you do." He said. 

"You know what the Chantry taught you." She said. 

"And they have been fighting blood mages for the last, oh how many ages? They may be biased but they may also be right. Look, it is not just about using blood to power spells or even about using it to influence or control people. Blood magic does things to the mage, changes them. Why do you think that all the blood mages we meet are aggressive and crazy? Not all of them were like that before they started using it." He said. 

"You can't condemn him for what he might do and what others have done." She said. 

"Actually I think that is the templar's motto." He said somewhat bitterly. "You can condemn them when the chances are high enough and the outcome bad enough and when they do something knowing the risks and the consequences. Besides I don't have to condemn him for what he might do, he has already done enough to be condemned. But it doesn't matter what I say, because you've already made up your mind." 

"I don't know as much as you about blood magic, true, but I know people." She said. "I appreciate and trust your opinion, you know I do and you may even be right but I have to do what I think is best, and we need all the help we can get." 

"You're too trusting." He said. 

"Or maybe you are too suspicious. I've been right so far, haven't I?" She asked. 

"Yes, but you only have to be wrong once." He said. 

A female servant walked up to Kathryn. "My lady?" 

Kathryn turned to her. "Yes?" 

"You room is ready and your bath is being prepared. Shall I show you to your room?" She asked. 

"Yes, thank you." Kathryn turned back but Alistair was gone. 

43.4 Jowan 

Jowan sat in his cell, stunned by what had happened. He had been convinced that he would never see this cell again. He thought he'd be dead by now, he should be dead by now. He went over what had happened and then over and over it again. He still didn't believe it, he was sure that somehow he had misunderstood for it was all too incredible for him to comprehend. He had prepared and had readied himself for his execution, stood before the Arl and waited for his judgment upon him. 

Then she, the Warden, Kathryn, had spoken up for him, stood by him, after all he had done, after knowing what he was, and when asked to dictate his fate, she said that she wanted him to join her, to have him help fight the blight. She actually thought he could be useful. To be rescued, saved like that from certain death, by such a kind, courageous and generous person, who also just happened to be utterly gorgeous, was like being snatched from the jaws of death by a benevolent spirit. 

Maybe he had a chance to do something right for once. Even if he just took an arrow meant for one of the others, it would be more good than he had ever done in his life. But perhaps he could do more. He had saved Connor, defeated a demon in the Fade. He'd been scared to death but he had done it and now he was even more powerful. Maybe he really could help defeat the Blight and make amends. 

He heard the dungeon door open. It still wasn't meal time yet, perhaps Kathryn wanted to talk to him. He hoped so. He wanted the chance to tell her how grateful he was, convince her of his willingness to help fight the Blight and to do whatever was asked of him. He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. He heard the key put into cell door, turn, the lock disengage, and the door open but it wasn't Kathryn that stepped into the cell. It was the other Grey Warden, the male warrior, though he didn't know his name. Maybe she had sent him to talk to him. 

He stepped into the cell letting the door close behind him. Jowan noticed that it didn't latch. 

"I don't believe we have been formally introduced." The Grey Warden said. 

"No, we haven't." Jowan said. There was something in his tone that made Jowan uneasy. 

"I'm Alistair of the Grey Wardens." He said. "I don't know if you heard or not, but they were all wiped out, all except me and Kathryn, at Ostagar by your boss, Loghain." 

"He isn't… I… I didn't know. I'm sorry." Jowan said. 

"Are you?" Alistair said. "Are you sure you didn't know beforehand? I mean you are a blood mage, right? Can't they read minds? Maybe you read Loghain's? Maybe you knew his plan but didn't say anything because you knew the only way you would survive was if they and the king were killed?" 

"No, I didn't. I… I didn't know… if I had… I… tried to… but he's… I didn't know. I swear." Jowan said. Alistair looked at him. Jowan got the impression of someone studying a bug. 

"You know, I was raised here in the castle by Arl Eamon. He's not my father but I guess he is the closest thing I had to one." Alistair said a bit wistful. 

The same Arl Eamon who Jowan had nearly killed. Jowan was getting the feeling that Kathryn didn't know Alistair was here, that no one did. But Jowan was sure that as much as Alistair might want to take a measure of revenge against him, he wouldn't try anything. First, Kathryn wanted him to go with them and Jowan didn't think Alistair would defy her. And second, even a skilled warrior, which Alistair looked to be, would be wary of taking on a mage, or at least a blood mage, who had already defeated a demon. 

"I lived here from the time I was born till I was sent to the Chantry and they trained me to be a templar." Alistair said. 

Jowan's heart stopped, his mouth went dry and his throat closed up. Alistair was trained as a templar. That changed everything. This was every mage's nightmare, a templar with a personal grudge. Now he was more than uneasy, he was scared and he could tell Alistair knew it. 

"You see, I know you can't be trusted, that you are a danger to all of us, to her and to our mission and I can't let that happen. You understand, right?" Alistair said. 

Jowan felt like an ogre was crushing his chest in its hand. "But she… she thinks I can help." 

"She'll get over it." Alistair said. "She is too trusting, too willing to see the good in people, to give them second chances that they don't deserve." He began walking towards Jowan and reaching for his sword. 

"No! Please. I… I really do want to help. I promise." Jowan said as he backed up. His back hit the cold wet stone of the wall of his cell. He had nowhere to go. He tried to read Alistair's mind but he couldn't, not that he really needed to. Jowan could see his intent in his eyes. Alistair meant to kill him. While Jowan had been resigned to death, he never wanted to die and he didn't want to die now. Especially not now, not when he had a chance to make amends, to do something good with his life. Jowan only had a few moments, if that, to decide what to do. 

Jowan knew that templars can resist most low level spells. Higher level ones take longer to cast and Alistair could smite him or perhaps even run him through before Jowan had a chance to cast anything powerful enough to have any effect on him. But Jowan also knew that blood magic is harder to resist even at lower levels. 

He really only had one option, to hit him with a powerful and debilitating blood magic spell. It would be strong enough to overcome the templar resistance and stop him from killing him. The door to the cell was open. He could use the tunnel in back of the dungeon and escape. But there was a high probability that the spell would either permanently injure him or it might kill him outright. All this flashed through Jowan's mind as he watched Alistair draw his sword. Jowan made his decision. 

He watched as the blade sliced towards him and waited. He thought about praying but doubted the Maker would listen to him. He closed his eyes and felt the cold steel on his neck, then it was gone. Jowan opened eyes. Alistair was putting his sword away. Jowan reached up to his neck. When he pulled his hand back, he saw the thin line of blood across his fingers. 

Alistair studied Jowan for several moments. "Why didn't you hit me with the blood magic, something… painful and debilitating? It's hard to resist even for a templar and it would have given you time to escape." He asked. 

Jowan was too scared, too shocked, too shaken, to say anything but the truth. "I didn't want to hurt you." 

Alistair might have smiled, slightly and only for a moment. 

"Why? I don't understand." Jowan asked. 

"I wanted to see what you'd do if you were in fear for your life or given a chance to escape." Alistair said. "Oh, don't worry, you couldn't have hurt me even if you had tried something. I've had a lot of experience fighting mages and even blood mages… demons, darkspawn and just about everything else. That's something you should keep in mind." Alistair said. He stepped closer to Jowan. "Let's get something straight. I don't like the fact that you're coming along. I don't trust you. However if she thinks you can be useful, I'll go along with that at least for a while. But if I think you are a danger especially to her or our mission to stop the Blight, I will kill you. Do you understand?" 

"Understand… do… I… I mean… I do… understand." Jowan said. Alistair turned and walked out of cell, slamming the door behind him. 

Jowan sat down hard on the floor, trying to catch this breath. He was shaking and gasping for air. Slowly the tightness in his chest began to release. Maker! He'd rather face a hundred demons than go through that again. As he heard the dungeon door close, he started to laugh. Partially, he knew out of relief but also at the realization that for maybe the first time in his life, he had made a good decision. 

43.5 Kathryn 

Kathryn finished talking off her armor as the servant poured the last bucket of water into the tub. The servant checked the coals. They would keep the water warm for quite a while. 

"There you go." The servant said. "Now, Lady Isolde gave me some bath oils and salts from her personal stock that she gets from her family in Orlais for all of you to use. Would you like me to put them in the water? They smell wonderful and nothing works better to keep your skin and hair soft, especially while traveling." 

"Yes, please." Kathryn said. 

"And she also wanted to offer some clothing from her closet, brand new dresses still wrapped in linen from the seamstress in Denerim. She thought you and the other ladies with you might like a change from armor and travel clothes. Shall I fetch one?" She asked. 

"Yes." Kathryn said, a bit surprised. Her and Isolde were not exactly on the best of terms. "That's very kind of her." 

"She is a generous mistress." The servant said and then sighed. "Do not judge her too harshly. I know she… it was difficult for her to be an Orlesian in this country. She tried you know with the villagers but they didn't take to her and finally she stopped trying. Her family, the Arl and her boy, became her life. I'm not trying to justify what she did but I have a son myself and well, I can understand. Now, I'll get some cloths for you to dry off with and that dress." 

"Thank you." Kathryn said as the servant closed the door. 

Kathryn had not had a long, hot bath since Highever, and she meant to enjoy it. She stepped into the tub. The heat felt good in her muscles and joints, her skin soaked up the oils, the smell helped her to relax. She could feel the tension ease away. She closed her eyes and laid back in the tub. 

There was a knock on the door. "Come in." She said. She heard the door open and then close. 

"You know," she heard Alistair say. "…you should be more careful about who you invite into your room, especially when in such a… state." She tried to bite back a smile, failed and opened her eyes to see Alistair standing by the door. 

"Well, a true gentleman would never knock on the door of a room he knew a woman was bathing in, and would never enter a room that a woman was in without announcing himself first, and even if he was invited in if he found a woman in a less than perfectly respectable condition he would withdraw immediately amid a flurry of apologies." She said. 

"Ah, then it's a good thing I'm not one then, huh?" Alistair said with a smile and started taking off his boots. 

"What are you doing?" She asked, hoping she knew the answer. 

"Conserving water." He said and continued removing his armor. 

"We are next to a lake." She said. 

"Oh, yeah, right." He finished undressing and indicated she should move over so that he could join her in the tub. 

"The servant will be back soon." She said as she made space for him. 

"Well, hopefully you've learned your lesson and will not in future just invite people into your room." He said as he climbed into the tub, sat down and leaned back. "Ah… oh… wow." 

"Hush or the entire castle will know you're here." She said as she leaned back against him. 

"I figure they already do. Probably just now reaching the gate guards." He said. "By the time we are done the whole village will probably know." 

"Surprised you didn't just inform the town crier of your intentions." She said. 

"I thought about it but the water would have gotten cold by then." He said. 

"I thought you were upset with me." She said. 

"No, not really. We have a difference of opinion, not the first time and won't be the last. Besides even if I was, not upset enough to miss this." He said. "I'll make you a deal. You recruited him, and we'll take him along, but if I, given my knowledge and training, think he is a danger, he… leaves. Fair enough?" 

Kathryn considered. "Yes, that's fair." 

"Good. Enough of that." He said. "Did I ever tell you about first hot bath I ever had?" 

"No, why was it memorable in some way?" She asked. 

"I'm hoping so, since this is it." He said. 

"Well, if that's the case," She said turning to face him. "I think we can manage to make it completely unforgettable." 

43.6 Servant 

The servant had her hands full of drying cloths and dresses. She hurried to each room dropping off a set and checking that the baths were being prepared. The black headed woman was soaking. The older lady was sleeping. The baths for the redhead and the handsome elf were being readied. She had looked but couldn't find the good-looking male human who she had finally found a set of clothing for. She didn't want to prepare a bath for him just to have it go cold before he used it. 

She returned to the room of the dark headed lady and knocked on the door. "My lady, I have the cloths and a dress for you. Can I come in?" 

"No, no, no… don't come in. Just… put them on the bench outside the door." The lady said. 

"Oh… are you sure, my lady?" She asked. 

"No, no, no…" The lady said softly. "I mean yes..." She said louder. "Yes, that will be fine." Then she heard the lady laugh. 

"Will there be anything else, my lady?" she said. 

"No, no, that's… oh… oh… yes… yes yes yes… oh…oh oh…" The lady said and then moaned. She could hear water being splashed. 

"My lady, is everything alright?" She asked a bit concerned. 

"Yes…yes… I mean… that's all." The lady said breathless. "Thank you." 

The servant placed the cloths and dress on the bench. She looked at the door curiously. She would feel horrible if the lady was in some trouble and she didn't at least check on her. It was only out of concern for her well-being, really it was. She glanced up and down the hall and then as discretely as possible looked through the keyhole. She saw the lady sitting up in the tub, facing away from her. The lady leaned forward as hands, male, human and large, reached around her before the lady moved out of her view. 

The servant stood up. She quickly checked that no one had seen her. She had to get back to the kitchen to tell the others as soon as possible and she had to hurry before someone else found out. She started back down the hall and then came back, putting the set of male clothing on the bench under the dress. Then she hurried down the stairs to find the others. 

Chapter 44: Redcliffe Part II 

44.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn opened the door the slightest bit and peered out into the hall. After checking several times, she quickly stepped to the bench by the door, grabbed the cloths and dress and ducked back into her room, shutting the door behind her. 

She set down the bundle and handed a cloth to Alistair and then took one for herself. She began to dry off and looked at the dress, which was quite lovely. As she picked it up she saw the set of male clothing hidden underneath. "It seems the entire castle does know you're here." She said with a smile and handed Alistair the set of clothing. 

"Told you." He said taking the set and looking over it with approval. "Speaking as a former castle inhabitant, it is nearly impossible to keep secrets from the servants." 

"Really." She said and then had a look of realization. "Ah, and then they tell the families. Now I understand. I always wondered how the nobles ladies knew so much about the private goings on of everyone else. That is one of the bad things about being nobility, everyone takes a perverted interest in your personal affairs. It is good thing everyone thinks I'm dead for just a few months ago, our 'affair' would have been a complete scandal and topped all the gossip circles." 

He looked at her curiously. "Our affair? Oh, yes, I guess it would be." He looked confused and concerned. 

"Alistair, you know that doesn't matter, not to me." She said. 

"I know that. I just don't think about us like that. I just consider… never mind." He said. 

"No, you still look like there is something wrong." She said. 

"I guess technically there is." He said. "I just don't think about us like that and so it just didn't occur to me that… me coming in here was… bad. I didn't mean…" 

"Alistair, if I was worried about that I could have told you to leave. I'm glad you did. Please, don't worry about it, alright? I'm not." She said. "If by the time this is over I'm judged on my 'virtue' or its lack, I will have completely failed as a warden and a person." 

"It's just that I really don't think that we are doing... I mean I know we aren't actually… that we don't have sanction, not that we could now with us being declared traitors and not having standing. I really believe that in the sight of the Maker we haven't done anything wrong. The important thing, the only thing that really matters is that the people involved are committed to each other. The ceremony is just a nice way to announce it to everyone, but having that formality doesn't change anything. It wouldn't change how I feel about us… about you." He said. 

She looked at him for a few moments. "But if we could… if we can… one day… are you saying… I mean… would you want to… do that?" 

"Of course, I would." He said. "I mean to be your… yes, more than anything." 

"Oh," She said smiling. "That's… good to know." 

44.2 Alistair 

Alistair and Kathryn were finishing dinner when a servant walked up to them. "My lady." He bowed to Kathryn and then turned to Alistair. "Ser, the Arl wishes to speak with you in his private study at your convenience." 

"He wanted to talk to me, just me and not Kathryn." Alistair said. 

"Yes, ser. That was the message." The servant said. 

"Oh." Alistair looked thoughtful as the servant waited for instruction. 

Kathryn addressed the servant. "Tell the Arl that Alistair is finishing dinner and will speak to him shortly." 

"Yes, my lady. Ser." He bowed and departed. 

"Sorry, I…" Alistair said. 

"I know." She said. "You're nervous. Why? I thought you wanted to talk to him about things." 

"I do." He said. "It's just… I don't know how to explain this but being here, I feel like I'm ten years old again. I have thought about what happened and I want to talk to him about it but as an adult. I don't want to say or do something stupid and childish." He considered and then looked at her. "Will you come with me?" 

"Of course I will, if you want me to." She said. 

"I do. I do want you to." He said. "I don't want you to do or say anything, just stop me if I start making an ass out of myself, alright?" 

"I don't know, you are quite good at that. Once you get going might be beyond my power to stop." She said with a smile. 

"Oh, you're just so funny." He said. "Seriously, I mean it." 

"I think I can handle that." She said. 

"Thank you." He said looking slightly less uncomfortable. 

She reached over and took his hand. "So, are you ready?" She said. 

"No, but I won't be any more ready later." He said. 

Alistair knocked on the door to Eamon's study. "Come in." They heard Eamon call out. Alistair took hold of the doorknob and with a deep breath he opened the door. 

Eamon was sitting at his desk, searching through the drawers. While Teagan sat in the side chair. They both looked up as the door opened. "Yes, Alistair, please come in." Eamon said. Alistair held the door allowing Kathryn to step into the room. Teagan immediately stood as did Eamon who looked surprised to see her but recovered quickly. "Kathryn, good to see you. I'm sorry I must not have been clear to the servant. I thought to speak to Alistair first and then afterwards we would talk about our plans." 

"I know." Alistair said. "I mean, he was clear about that. I asked her to come." 

Eamon looked at them both curiously for a moment and then smiled. "Please both of you have a seat. May I get you a drink? Wine or brandy, perhaps?" 

Teagan stood and said. "I will take my leave now." 

"You can stay, if you want. I don't mind." Alistair said. 

Teagan looked to Eamon who said. "Another brandy?" 

Their drinks having been poured and given to them, Eamon sat back down behind the desk. He took a last quick look through the top drawer and then closed it. Alistair took a sip of brandy and then set the drink down. He reached under his shirt and pulled out the shattered and repaired amulet and took it off. He stood up and handed it to Eamon. "Are you looking for this?" 

"Ah, there it is." Eamon said with relief as he took the amulet. "I thought that with all that had happened it had been lost. I couldn't help but think it ironic that I keep it all these years only to lose it as you appear on my doorstep." He looked over the amulet. 

"You repaired it. Why?" Alistair said. 

"So I could give it back to you." Eamon said. "I knew how important it was to you, how upset you were when you… when it shattered. But by the time I finally got it back together…" 

"The brothers had asked you to stop coming to see me." Alistair said. 

"Ah, you have been speaking to Teagan." Eamon said with a smile glancing over at his brother. "They said it would be best. You were having trouble… adjusting and each time I came it seemed to make things worse." Eamon looked down and sighed. "They said with time it would get better." 

"It didn't." Alistair said looking away. 

Eamon looked at him with a great deal of sadness. "You must have been furious to destroy this and then to refuse to see me and very hurt too." Eamon said. "That was never my intention." 

Alistair swallowed hard. "I said things… I… didn't mean…" 

"I know that and do not think I hold that against you." Eamon said with a sad smile. "You were a child and upset and justifiably so. Your actions made me realize the mistakes I had made and there were many, I am sad to say. When you came here, I was barely twenty-six and had no idea how to handle the situation. Looking back I see all that I did wrong. I was so naïve in many ways, and I know that you have suffered the most for it." 

"When I came here…" Alistair said confused. He rubbed his forehead and then with effort said. "I… then why… why did you send me away? Was it because of the Arlessa? Did she think I was… yours? Is that why she…" 

"No." Eamon said weary. "She knew the truth but she had other concerns and they were not unfounded. It was so accepted that you were my son that she feared when the time came, you would be named Arl instead of our child. I tried to discourage those rumors but now see that everything I did only encouraged them and made the situation worse until it became unbearable for everyone concerned. But that was only one of many considerations. I was trying to do what was best for everyone, including you." 

Alistair turned away walking a couple steps and then turned back. "How? By sending me away from the only home I had ever known? How could that be…" 

Kathryn discretely cleared her throat. Alistair looked to her for a moment and then back to Eamon. "I'm sorry. I should give you a chance to answer." 

Eamon glanced over at Kathryn and then back to Alistair. "What were you going to do here? Be a stable boy all your life?" Alistair looked thoughtful. Eamon continued. "You were better than that. You were so bright and personable and had a chance to do more, but to do that you needed an education. One that I couldn't give you without raising uncomfortable questions but one the monastery could. The plan was for you to be a brother in the church or a scholar, or to gain an apprenticeship with a merchant or craftsman, if you chose to." Eamon shook his head. "The last thing I wanted was for you to be a templar, fighting malificarim, demons and abominations. When I found out, I wrote the Grand Cleric, several times but she was not… sympathetic. There was nothing more I could do." 

"No, there was nothing you could do." Alistair said with a touch of bitterness. 

"And neither could Maric." Eamon said as Alistair looked to him. "He tried and so did Cailan. It seemed the more we tried, the more determined she became. Perhaps she was only flexing her authority, showing that she would do as she pleased despite us, or she may have thought it prudent to have something to hold over them. Cailan did everything but threaten war and only came to the compromise of having you assigned to his personal guard after you took your vows. But then you were recruited to the Grey Wardens." 

After a few moments Alistair said. "If I had been… yours, would you have sent me away?" 

"No." Eamon said after only the slightest hesitation. "If you had been my son, you would have been my heir. I would have claimed you and you would have been trained to take over Redcliffe. That would have been your right and what I wanted for my first born. But you weren't my son, and what I would have wanted for you didn't matter. It was what Maric wanted, what your parents wanted for you." 

"Maric!" Alistair said angry. "He only wanted for me to disappear, to never have been born! He never even saw me, never acknowledged I existed." 

"Yes, he did, Alistair. He saw you many times. You just didn't know it." Eamon said gently. "He told me that your mother…" 

"He told you… how would… my mother was a serving girl here who died when I was born. How could he know what she wanted for me…" Alistair stopped and considered. "…or… is that not true?" 

Eamon sighed. "No, it's not. The truth is that Maric summoned me to the palace and gave you to me to raise as best I could." Alistair turned away. Eamon continued. "He told me that your mother couldn't raise you herself and had given you to him but only with his word that you not be raised as his son, not as royalty, not even as nobility, and that you never know who your parents were." 

Alistair looked back confused. "Why? I don't…" 

"Maric never wanted to be king, but he had a duty. Cailan was the heir but you were free to make your own way in the world and that was what they wanted for you, to not be bound by your parentage. And I tried my best to honor their wishes." Eamon said. 

Alistair looked at Eamon curiously. "Why would you honor the word of a man who had betrayed your sister and the wishes of the woman he had betrayed her with?" 

"And I'll add to that why I do not hold his betrayal against you or him for that matter? In fact why would he entrust you with me to raise in the first place?" Eamon said. "Do you know when Rowan died?" 

Alistair looked confused. "No, I guess I don't know exactly. I know it was soon after the war. Cailan was still very young." 

"My sister died in 9:8. Only three years after being crowned queen and giving birth to Cailan." Eamon said. 

"But I was born… at least, I was told I was born in 9:10." Alistair said. 

"And you were." Eamon said. "After Rowan died, Maric was despondent. We were all afraid for him. Then one day miraculously, he was full of life again. A year later, he gave you to me. The implication was hard to miss." 

Alistair rubbed his eyes. "Do you know who she is?" Alistair asked. 

"No, and that is the truth. Maric never said anymore about her. All I know is that he cared a great deal for her." Eamon said. "And for you. He saw you many times, watched you playing in the castle. He said that you reminded him of his mother, Moria. He never met you because he knew if he did he would be tempted to break his word. The fact that he couldn't be a father to you broke his heart. But I believe that he thought, that they both did, that they were doing what was best for you." 

Alistair turned away and walked over to the far wall rubbing the back of his neck and forehead in turn. He walked back to the desk and picked up the amulet. "Was this actually hers, my mother's?" Alistair said. 

Eamon looked pained. "No, it wasn't. It didn't even belong to the women we told you was your mother. It was…" 

"A lie, like everything else." Alistair smiled a bitter smile and shook his head. "How is it that everything I was told, that I was lead to believe, was a lie?" 

"Sometimes lies are better." Eamon said. 

"For who?" Alistair said. 

"That… is a fair point." Eamon said. 

Alistair tossed the amulet back on the desk. He started to turn away but stopped and watched it come to rest. He picked it up again, running this thumb over the cracks. He looked to Eamon as he slipped the amulet back under his shirt. "Thank you for being honest with me." 

"You deserved that much." Eamon said with a smile. "We will talk more later when there is time." Alistair nodded. "Now, we should discuss our plans." 

44.3 Eamon 

Eamon was glad that the conversation with Alistair was over and had gone as well as it had. There were old wounds that had been festering for years, but that perhaps now had a chance to heal. He had prayed nearly every night that one day he would get such an opportunity to speak to Alistair, that he would be able to see past the anger and pain and would listen to him. He knew Alistair's temper and will and that even with time and maturity, that was not assured. But now he hoped that they would be able to move on and rebuild their relationship, as he had pieced together the shattered amulet. Their conversation at least gave the appearance that it was possible. 

He knew if they were to have any chance at a real relationship, that he had to tell Alistair the truth, at least as much of it as he knew. There was no reason to lie anymore and given the plan he had devised, many good reasons not to. 

He knew when he brought him to Redcliffe there would be rumors, but he hadn't been concerned. Having a bastard while looked down upon was not the greatest of sins especially since he was not married at the time. He had tried to honor Maric's wishes and did his best to not give Alistair any special treatment, having him cared for as he thought he would the orphaned child of a servant. He had found that was easier said than done. It was difficult to not show favoritism for he had quickly grown very fond of Alistair. 

But he had not considered the effect the rumors would have on Isolde. While Alistair's birth predated their marriage, it was after they had an understanding between them. He had never wanted to embarrass her but he had not considered the pettiness of the nobility and how the fact that she was Orlesian made everything into a larger deal than it would have been otherwise. 

Nor had he considered how those rumors might affect the succession and his family's future. While he might discount the rumors as not being a major concern, who inherited Redcliffe was. She had legitimately pointed out that with Alistair being so accepted as his son, it was possible that if something happened to Eamon, and their child was not of age or if they held the child's heritage against them that Alistair could be given the arling. Then what would become of them? While she still wrote letters to her family in Orlais, she would not be welcomed back with open arms. He also knew for after all she had done and sacrificed to be with him to have to return home would be humiliating to say the least. It may fall to Teagan to take care of them and that would be a hard burden to place upon him. 

He had tried to dissuade the rumors but somehow everything he did only encouraged them. He was now ashamed to think about how Alistair had slept in the barn and worked in the kitchen, the hard life he had endured and how Eamon had neglected him to dissuade rumors that such treatment only encouraged. If had just ignored Alistair from the beginning, it might have been better. It might have stopped the rumors before they became accepted as truth. But by the time he was aware of their harm, it was too late. 

Perhaps he could have done things differently, but whether it would have made the outcome better or if it was simply inevitable, only the Maker knew. All those who cared about Alistair had tried to do what they thought best for him but Alistair had seemed to only suffer abandonment and neglect for their good intentions. Eamon thought bitterly that Alistair might have been better off if he hadn't been so loved. 

Their conversation had gone well, as well as could be expected and there would be more later but now there were other concerns, the blight and the civil war. Eamon had thought over their options and had a plan. He was unsure about how his proposal would be received by those present. He was expecting everything from surprise to concern or even anger. But he was certain that this was the right way to proceed. 

Eamon took a deep breath. "I have thought this through. I do not know what has befell Loghain but he must be stopped. He is responsible for heinous crimes and I intend to see him pay for them." He said with determination but also a great deal of sadness. Loghain had never been one of his favorite people. He was a hard man, a difficult man to get to know or like. But he knew of his love for Ferelden and for Maric and that he had sacrificed much to see this country free. To see him betray both it and Maric was heart-breaking. 

"But more important, Ferelden must stand united to defeat the darkspawn. A fractured nation will not defeat the Blight, even given my army and those gathered with your treaties. While I can unite those opposing Loghain, not all oppose him. He still has some very powerful allies." Eamon said. "While we could attempt to wage a military campaign against Loghain, even if we won… would we have enough left to defeat the darkspawn?" 

"No, but neither would Loghain." Teagan said. 

"Perhaps Loghain gambles on this attitude. That everyone would decide facing the darkspawn is more important than facing him, so that he leads us against the horde." Eamon said thoughtful. Loghain was nothing but a strategist and this takeover had been well thought out. It gave Eamon chills to think about how long he had been planning this, working silently to put the pieces in place. 

"But the fact remains that someone must copitulate if Ferelden is to have any chance at fighting the darkspawn." Eamon said. 

"Then we must force Loghain to surrender." Kathryn said. 

"Yes, but to remove him from power without military intervention, will take a near miracle. Surrender is not something he is accustomed too and it will not be easy to force him to accept defeat." Eamon said. "Loghain is a Teryn and a war hero and many who know him only as such will not believe our claims, and we cannot prove them. The reports and rumors that surround him are just that." 

"If we are able to do this without a battle, we must act in accordance with the rules and tradition. We must keep in mind that as it stands he is acting as regent for Anora. She has admitted by her actions that she cannot rule on her own, despite her administering the country for Cailan these years. She is the one we are deposing, unless of course he tries to have himself declared king, which will not help his cause. We must get support, get the banns and the landsmeet behind us, if they cannot force Loghain to surrender no one can." Eamon said. 

"But if we are able to remove him from power and do not have an alternative to replace him with, we created a vacuum, that may cause more problems than it solves. We need someone to hold the country together, to unite it against the darkspawn and that will not be an easy task." Eamon said. 

"What do you propose?" Kathryn said. 

"I will spread word of Loghain's treachery, both here and against the king. Our claims against him, along with the rumors and reports will give Loghain's allies pause and win some over to our side, but we must combine it with a challenge Loghain cannot ignore." Eamon said. "We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain's daughter, the queen." 

"Are you referring to Alistair, Brother? Are you certain?" Teagan said with a great deal of concern. 

"I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative. But the unthinkable has occurred." Eamon said. 

"You intend to put Alistair forward as king?" Kathryn said taken aback. 

"Teagan and I have a claim through marriage, but through Rowan's marriage to Maric. Anora's claim is by marriage and through her Loghain's. Alistair's claim is by blood." Eamon said. 

"Hey, what about me? I'm right here. Does anyone care what I think about this? What I want?" Alistair said. Eamon could see that Alistair was not only upset at the idea of being king but simply annoyed that everyone was speaking about him as if he wasn't present. 

"Of course, Alistair. But we don't have many options and must use the resources that are available to us." Eamon said. "Loghain has thought this out well, planned it carefully, allowed for nearly every contingency, cutting off means of attack and avenues of retreat before we even knew there was a fight to be had. It is why he tried to have me killed for he knew I had influence with the banns and did not wish to face me and why he had the person with the best chance of being chosen king in place of Cailan killed before the battle at Ostagar even took place. Without you and your claim to the throne, Loghain wins for no one else could challenge him, or at least not with any chance of success." Eamon said. 

"I don't have a claim to the throne." Alistair said with some bitterness. "I'm a bastard, remember." 

"And in places like Orlais, that matters but not here. Here the banns decide who rules them and they could decide on anyone they choose but even here bloodlines matter. There is a reason the Theirins ruled for so long and so successfully, for those traits run in families. Whether you see it or not, you have some of your father, and grandmother in you, along with Calenhad and all your other ancestors who have ruled this land. That means something." Eamon said. 

"But I do not believe that would be enough to unseat Loghain if he is a good king. We cannot prove his plotting to take the throne, and given the danger the country is in, even if we could it may not be enough. However, his actions have not won him friends and if he continues on this path, by the time of the landsmeet, may have proven himself an unfit king. In that case, you become a viable alternative. They may look at you and see Maric and Calenhad and that might be enough to install in them enough confidence in your ability or at least your potential to make them risk deposing Loghain and appointing you and that is what we must count on. We cannot make you do this, of course. But I would not suggest it if I didn't think you had a chance to be appointed and if I didn't think you could handle the responsibility." Eamon said. 

"What changed your mind?" Alistair asked in a voice that bordered on angry. "I was told my entire life that I couldn't be king. So, did something change your mind or is this another lie, and if so, were you lying then or are you lying now because we are just that desperate?" 

"I know we told you that you were unfit to be king, that we discouraged your interest, taught you to fear and despise the throne, but it wasn't because we thought you wouldn't do a fine job as king but because we wanted to stop you from trying to take the crown. You see the harm a civil war does to a country." Eamon said. 

"You did that, all of it, to protect Cailan." Alistair said. 

"No, to protect Ferelden. We thought we were doing the best for the country." Eamon said weary. "I know that this is not what you want but you have a responsibility, Alistair, we all do. Without an alternative plan, some other way to oust Loghain from power without fighting a military campaign, I would have to support him, for the sake of Ferelden. Is that what you want?" 

"I… but I… no, my lord." Alistair said. Eamon knew that Alistair would do his duty and what was best for the country. His parents had wanted him to find his own way in the world apart from the throne but it seemed the Maker had other plans for him. 

"I see only one way to proceed. I will call for a Landsmeet. There we can present our case and Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another. Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin." Eamon said. 

Eamon turned to Kathryn. Bryce had spoken quite highly of his daughter and there was no one's opinion Eamon respected more than his friend's. From what he could tell the praise was well deserved. "What say you to that? I do not wish to proceed without your blessing. For none of this would be possible without you. It's your lead I follow." He said with a great deal of humility. As much as he could do, he understood perfectly who was in charge and upon who the success of the plan and the very survival of Ferelden itself depended. 

44.4 Kathryn 

Kathryn had been listening, sipping her wine as Eamon had outlined his plan. She considered for several moments. "I say… 

"Can I talk to you for a moment? In private." Alistair said. "Please, will you excuse us?" He said to Eamon. 

"Of course." Eamon said taken slightly back. Alistair walked out of the room holding the door for Kathryn, who rose and followed him out into the hall. He closed the door behind her. 

"You can't be seriously thinking about agreeing to this! I mean me! King?! You can't think this is a good idea!" Alistair said. 

"As it stands it is the only one." She said. "Unless you're thinking we should support Loghain." 

"That's not funny." He said. "There has to be some other way." 

"Such as?" Kathryn asked. 

"I don't… you! You could be queen. You're already almost royalty, right? Your father nearly took the throne from Cailan, all the nobles have heard of you, you have more royal blood than I do and more than Anora too, more than both of us put together, in fact." He said. 

"My entire family has been declared traitors, not to mention the fact that I'm supposed to be dead." Kathryn said matter of fact. "While I may have a longer and perhaps a more illustrious bloodline, Anora is already queen. Most of the nobility only know me by reputation. Whatever claim I might have, it isn't as good as hers. You know that." 

"There has to be another way. I… I can't do this." Alistair said. He was breathing too hard and had started to pace. "I… I just can't. They can't make me. I won't. I'll just say no. They can't make me king if I don't agree." He said. 

"Is that it?" She asked. "They denied you your birthright for years and now that they want you to be king, you have the power to refuse, and so you are." 

"You say it like that, it sounds so petty." He said. "I… I don't… I can't… even…" 

Kathryn waited till he passed by and grabbed him, turning him to her. Before he had a chance to figure out what she was doing, she held his head and kissed him, long and hard. She pulled back as Alistair slowly opened his eyes. "You're panicking." She said. "Pull yourself together, alright." 

He took a deep breath. "I can't do this." He said but much calmer. 

"Why not?" She asked. 

"What?" He asked. 

"I asked 'Why not?' You said you can't be king. I am asking you 'Why not?'." She said. 

"I… I'm just not king material." He said. 

"That's a conclusion not a reason." She said. "You don't want to be king, I get that, but let me ask you this: Do you truly not want to be king or do you not want the throne because all your life you've been told that you can't? Told the throne was not for you? Told that you couldn't be king?" He looked at her, considering. 

She touched the side of his face. "Tell me, what are you afraid of?" She asked. 

He swallowed hard. "Failing. Being a horrible king and having the country fall to the Blight or get conquered and it all be on my head. I can just hear them, 'We knew that we shouldn't have put that bastard on the throne. Just look at what happened!' I'm a commoner, the son of a serving… I don't even know, do I?" He said rubbing the back of his neck. "I was told all my life, not in so many words, but it was always made clear that I wasn't… that I couldn't be king." 

"And you believe them?" She said. "You heard Eamon say the reason they told you that had nothing to do with if you could rule or not." 

"But what if they're right? It doesn't matter why they said it, if it's true." He said. "I can't do it. I can't rule. I don't know the first thing about government or leading a nation. I can't make those decisions that affect everyone's lives and the fate of the entire country or even the world. I can't do what you do." 

"Neither could I when this started, but I learned how, and so can you." She said. "Last time I checked Calenhad was the second son of a merchant." 

"Third son, actually." He said and then realized by her expression that she knew that but wanted to see if he did. He looked away and gave a deep sigh. 

"Alistair, you can do this." She said. 

"You're just saying that because there isn't another choice." He said. "I know you and I know that you are not above lying to someone to make them do what you… think is best." 

"You think I'd lie to you." She said. 

"I know you would." He said. "You lie all the time. There was that knight in Denerim who wanted to fight you, the mercenaries who were going to report the member of the Mages' Collective, the Dalish clan about Zathrian and his involvement in the curse, that psychotic female elf who wanted to kill all the werewolves despite the fact that they were no longer werewolves, and then to Owen about rescuing his daughter…" 

"We did rescue her." She said. 

"Yes, well, lucky her." He said. 

"You even convinced the Revered Mother to lie to the knights in Redcliffe about the amulets. So yes, you would lie to me and don't tell me you wouldn't." He said. "At least be honest about it." 

"Alright." She said. "I admit I do lie or at least tell versions of the truth when I think it is necessary to achieving a better result than could be gotten otherwise, saving someone's life or many lives or avoiding harm to innocents or even just getting us out of pointless fighting. And I will also admit that one day, I may even lie to you if I have to, but I'm not lying to you now." 

"This is, I believe, our best option, not only to stop Loghain, end the civil war and have any chance to stop the Blight, but also to hold the country together afterwards, rebuild and protect it. I will try to convince you of that but that doesn't mean I'd lie to you to do it, and even if I did lie to you, I'm not going to tell you that you can rule if I don't think you could." She said with a smile. "I mean you might start to believe it." 

Alistair tried to force back a smile and succeeded, mostly. She continued. "If I didn't believe you were capable of this, I'd remind you that this is our only option and that it is just a means to removing Loghain from power. I'd tell you that no one is saying you have to be king or even if you are appointed that it will be permanent. So much could happen between now and then, so many other options may present themselves before that. I'd tell you that your claim to the throne is the only way to get to Loghain, and then once the Blight is over then we can deal with who will rule." She said. 

"But I'm not saying that. I'm telling you that you can rule this country and rule it well, that you can be a good king, a strong king. You can unite the country, lead it and rule it. I know you don't know politics and governance, that you have not had the training and education but believe me, you have all the talent." She said. "I was raised by a good man who was a great ruler, loved and respected by nobility and commoners alike, and he taught me what it takes to rule, how to be a good leader. One of the many things he taught me was how to recognize the talents of others. I'm telling you - You can do this." 

"Why? Because I'm Maric's son, Calenhad's descendant? Because of my Theirin blood?" He asked. 

"No, because you're you." She said. Alistair turned away burying his head in his hands. 

After several moments, he said. "I want to convince myself that despite all Loghain has done that the country would be better served with him ruling it instead of me. That I should just put everything aside for the good of the country and let him lead Ferelden against the Blight." Alistair looked to Kathryn. "But I can't. It isn't even that I cannot let him get away with all that he has done, even though I can't. He doesn't believe this is a Blight and with us outlawed and his refusing the help from the Orlesian wardens, the country will fall to the darkspawn before he realizes he is wrong, if he ever does. Either way it will be too late to save Ferelden." 

"If he is willing to murder the king, the Grey Wardens and leave an army to die, to get torn apart by monsters, what else will he do? What else is he capable of? How many others will suffer because he is convinced he is right and refuses to listen? What else will he do because no one will stop him? Because no one can? Maybe I can't save the country but I can at least try to stop him destroying it." He looked to Kathryn. "That's something, right?" 

Kathryn had never loved him more than she did at this moment. "Yes, that's something." She said. "Besides, you never know, once you get used to the idea, you might actually like being king, ordering people around and having them cater to your every whim. I bet you can get all the fine cheeses and rare Antivan brandies you want." 

"True. I bet there's a whole new wardrobe that comes as part of the deal. Maybe a nice scepter, too, I like that idea." He said with a smile and then took a deep breath. He took Kathryn's hand and kissed it. "Promise me something." He said. 

"I promise." She said. 

"You don't know what I was going to say." He said. 

"It doesn't matter." She said. "Whatever it is, if I can, I will do whatever you ask of me, as you would for me." 

"I would, of course I… You know I would." He said. 

"We are in this together, you know." She said. "No matter what." He tried to say something but instead looked away. "Come on." She said. "We need to tell Eamon." Alistair nodded. 

Alistair opened the door to the study, holding it for Kathryn. Eamon waited as Alistair sat down in the chair and took a rather large sip of brandy. "We have decided that you should proceed with your plan." He said. 

"Very well, I will send out the word." Eamon said resigned to this course of action but relieved a decision had been made. "It will take some time to recall my forces and organize our allies. I would prefer to wait until that is done before calling the Landsmeet." 

"Then, in the meantime, we will continue to pursue the treaties. We have not met with the dwarves of Orzamar and they may be the most important of our potential allies. If the weather is good, that is our next destination." Kathryn said. 

"Good. We will need them, and all the allies we can get if we are to have a chance to defeat the darkspawn." Eamon said. 

Chapter 45: Redcliffe Part III 

45.1 Kathryn 

Alistair, Kathryn and Teagan said good night to Eamon and left the study. 

"Can I interest either of you in a nightcap?" Teagan said. 

"I could use another drink or maybe ten." Alistair said only partially joking. 

"Why don't you two go on. I need to… check on the others and Wynne. She was still resting earlier. I want to make sure she's fine." Kathryn said. 

"Then good-night, Kathryn." Teagan said with a slight bow. 

"Good-night, Teagan." She said. He turned towards the main hall. Alistair looked at her curiously then followed Teagan. 

Kathryn waited till they had left and went back to Eamon's study. She knocked quietly on the door. 

"Come in." Eamon said. She opened the door. "Ah, my dear, please come in. I had a feeling you might wish to speak to me alone." 

"Alistair and Teagan are enjoying a nightcap. I believe Alistair needs a drink or maybe ten." She said. 

"Yes, he very well might need them all before this is over. May I interest you in another glass of wine?" Eamon said. 

"Please." She said. Eamon poured the drink and handed it to her. "Thank you. I thought that you might be resting." 

"I have rested long enough." Eamon said. "Now is the time for action. I may not swing a sword with the same strength as I did in my younger years, but with a pen I still wield a great deal of influence. This battle, I hope, will be one fought with words and not weapons. Although I do fear that Loghain will not give up power easily and not without a fight on his terms and to his strength." 

Kathryn looked thoughtful. "Do you really think the landsmeet will support Alistair?" She asked. 

"I don't know." Eamon said. "He is Maric's son. The resemblance is too strong for anyone to truly doubt it and that carries weight. The Theirins have ruled for ages and ruled well for the most part. Without Calenhad there would be no Ferelden. The essence of the country is tied to his descendants, and that history, that loyalty is what held the country together during the occupation. Without that, the country may go back to warring banns and teyrnirs. If that happens, if we cannot stay united, not only it is unlikely that we will survive the Blight but, we would be easy prey for the larger countries and empires." 

"You mean Orlais." Kathryn said. 

"They are the most likely but they are only one of many that may look upon the scattered remains of Ferelden with a greedy eye. Of course, now with the Blight we are safe from invasion but…" Eamon said. "Alistair has no training in governance or politics nor do any of the nobles know him personally. That will not install a great amount of confidence in his ability to rule. I doubt his parentage will be enough to unseat Loghain, but as I say if Loghain proves not to be acting in the best interests of the country then we have a chance. I have a great number of letters expressing concern about Loghain. His grab for power, the rumors about Ostagar, reports of his brutal crushing of opposition, they all tell a disturbing story. While he is a teyrn and a war hero, if he proves a unfit king, that will be our best argument for removing him from power, especially since we have an alternative." 

Eamon smiled with remembrance. "I remember Maric telling me that not only did Alistair remind him of Moria but that he had more natural talent for leadership and governance than him and Cailan put together. It was quite a compliment and in time, we came to see that he was right. I never met Moria but from the words of my father and what she was able to accomplish, she was an incredible person and an amazing leader. She allowed herself to be captured by my father, despite the fact that at the time he was not part of the rebellion and could have gained great favor by turning her over to the Orlesians." Eamon said. 

"Why would she do that?" Kathryn said. 

"Because she was sure that if she had an audience with him she could convince him to join her and she was right. He became her second in command. She convinced many in a similar fashion because upon meeting her you knew that she was a queen. Nobles swore on bended knee to put her on the throne of Ferelden for no other reason than they were convinced she belonged there." Eamon said. 

"Maric, however, never wanted to be king and did not have her talent, bearing or charisma. In truth, as a child and even a young man, he was not that impressive. Many worried about what would happen if the rebellion or if in fact the country fell into his hands. It seems treasonous to speak such now but that is the truth of it. He became a good king but learned how through the fire of war, but make no mistake without my father, my sister and especially Loghain, this country would not be free today." Eamon said. 

"However, what Maric had learned about leadership and governance, he didn't know how to teach to Cailan. I tried to teach him what I could but… he did not take to it well. His head being full of stories and glory. Maric wanted Cailan to enjoy being king in a way he never did, and he accomplished that, but neglected to install in him the great responsibility it is and the gravity of what is asked of a king. Things Maric knew all too well. Perhaps Maric wanted to forget those realities and what the throne and the war had taken from him. I can't say I blame him for that." Eamon said. "But without the talent, training and bearing to go along with Cailan's… exuberance, he did not install confidence in his abilities as a ruler. When Maric disappeared, there was talk and a lot of it that it might be better if someone else took the throne." 

"Father." Kathryn said. 

"Yes, if Bryce had not been loyal to the crown, if he had not been always thinking about what was the best for the country, we may have a civil war then. Cailan's marriage to Anora was probably the only reason he was crowned king, and perhaps the only reason he married her, for he waited till after Maric's disappearance, after his coronation to marry her despite them being promised as children and the fact that she was older than him and not getting any younger." Eamon said. 

"You suspect that he was stalling." She said. 

"I think that might be part of it. For if their marriage was delayed by another few years he would have had a legitimate argument that despite them being promised that she was too old." Eamon said. 

"We found papers at Ostagar in a secret compartment of the royal arms chest." Kathryn said. Eamon looked interested. "One is a letter from you discuss 'putting Anora aside'." 

"Yes, that conversation did not go well. They had not produced an heir. She was at the time nearing her thirtieth year. An advanced age for a first child. I do not truly think anything is wrong with her except that she has at most some fondness for her husband and little respect. I think that Cailan could only do his duty to his county for so long. I know that his marriage to her one of few reasons he was able to keep the crown. And whether it was loyalty to her or gratitude or satisfaction with the situation or if he was simply used to it, he was opposed to putting her aside for any reason." Eamon said. 

"If she was reason he held throne, and ruled in his stead, if he tried to set her aside would he not risk losing the throne? And if the banns can choose whoever they want anyway, as they nearly did with Cailan, having an heir is not as important as it would be in other countries." Kathryn said. 

"Astute observation. Yes, that is all true but the succession is important to other kingdoms who may not understand our politics and government but understand theirs. That clear line of succession helps to keep us from being invaded by other countries looking to take advantage of a perceived instability." Eamon said. 

"But it was more than that. As soon as they were married, she took over the rule of Ferelden allowing him only to play the part of king without the responsibility. He remained a child playing make-believe because that was all he was allowed to do. He wanted to be king so badly that he agreed. But I think he came to regret it. I thought if he put her aside, that he would then have to take the responsibilities of the kingdom. But the banns know she had been ruling the country all this time and the only way the they might allow Cailan to set her aside was is if the succession was in jeopardy." Eamon said. 

"No doubt you had someone in mind to replace her." Kathryn said with a knowing smile. 

"Yes, I must admit I did." Eamon said. 

"It seems so did Cailan." Kathryn handed the papers they had found in the royal arms chest to Eamon. He read them and then read them again. He put the papers down and shook his head. "The implication is pretty clear." She said. 

"I never imagined he would… the empress? What was he thinking?" Eamon said. 

"Do you think Loghain knew?" She asked. 

"I have hardly any doubt he had some idea. Very little goes on in this country that he does not have some inclining of." Eamon said. 

"Do you think that may be…" 

"…why he snapped?" Eamon finished for her. "It is very likely. Seeing Maric's son planning on delivering Ferelden back to the Orlesians, might every well have pushed him over the edge. Yes, I can see him being willing to sacrifice nearly anything to keep the country out of their hands, even if he had to destroy Ferelden in the process." He said. 

"It just proves that neither Cailan or Loghain understood Ferelden politics. There is no way the banns would have stood for Cailan's marriage to the empress and there very well might have been a civil war that would have torn the country apart. Then again perhaps Loghain did understand that and wished to avoid it. Hoping that by orchestrating the king's death, and that of myself and Bryce and with the Blight looming, he could avoid a civil war. But for one of the few times, he was wrong." He picked up the crumpled letter from the empress. "Foolish boy." He said as he shook his head. "Foolish, foolish boy." 

"To avoid a civil war is why you conditioned Alistair to not want to be king? So that he would not try to take the throne from Cailan." Kathryn asked. 

"Yes." Eamon said with a sigh. "We all saw that Alistair had the talent, bearing and charisma of his grandmother. We could all imagine him walking to the landsmeet upon his coming of age and demanding to be made king. I do not know how much of the child he was is left in the man he is now. As a child he had a temper frightening in its intensity, another trait of the Theirins, though Alistair's was much quicker than either Maric's or Cailan's. Alistair also had a will strong as iron, even as small boy. We did fear that if he decided that he wanted the throne, that he would stop at nothing to gain it as many second sons and bastards had before him." Eamon smiled and then shook his head. "I am ashamed to admit that we tried to weaken him, out of fear, instead of fostering his strength as we should have." 

"We were doing our best, we thought, to protect Ferelden, and the freedom so many had suffered and died for, by making sure Alistair didn't start a civil war, but it came anyway from a place I never would have expected. And now I must ask him to take over a duty we taught him to fear and despise. The Maker does have a sense of humor." Eamon shook his head. "Or perhaps this is how it should have been all along. For natural talent does not go away, it only lies dormant until called upon. Alistair has not the training, he does not know politics or governance but if he is half as bright as I remember him being, he will pick that up quickly. His way with people, natural charm and grace, his astute judgment of others will all serve him well. His strength and will shall return and bloom with experience and confidence. And he will have help." Eamon smiled at Kathryn. "If he is given the throne, I truly believe that he has the potential to become a fine king." Eamon said with real warmth and a bit of pride. "And I believe that you will have a lot to do with that." 

"I'm sorry, I don't understand." Kathryn said. 

"The two of you are quite close, it seems." Eamon said. 

Kathryn considered. "We have an understanding between us." She said. 

"I see. I must admit I expected as much. I can see by how he looks at you, the great respect, trust and the fondness he has for you. And I can attest from my personal experience that he is a hard person not to care for." Eamon said with a smile. "I have a feeling that you have done much to counteract our misguided teachings and that of the Chantry and have fostered the confidence he displays, that he has matured and grown, even blossomed under your watch. I believe that you can greatly influence his thoughts and feelings about becoming king." 

Kathryn considered. "Are you suggesting…" 

Eamon held up a hand. "I would not assume to suggest anything to you. Your judgment is in my mind beyond question. I only mention it as something for you to keep in mind. But despite having expected it, I must admit a certain amount of surprise at it. For though you are both Grey Wardens, with your brother missing, you are the rightful Teyrna of Highever, and despite his royal blood him being a bastard means that as the situation stands he would not be considered a suitable match for you." Eamon said. 

"I am aware of that." She said without any anger or resentment. "But that is a consideration for a later time. At present there is a Blight and a civil war, if both are not stopped it will matter little who is ruler of Highever and their relationship to anyone. However I am not naïve and know that those things matter and it will have to be dealt with if and when the situation presents itself." 

"Of course, if he is appointed king, that would take care of a lot of things." Eamon said. 

"Indeed." She said with a smile. "Although Highever is a long way from Denerim." 

"Yes, but not that long." Eamon said. "Especially if you had a loyal seneshal to take care of the day to day concerns." 

"True." She said. 

"It is something to consider for it goes without saying, but I shall say it nonetheless, that you would be a great help to him and to the country. If you are so inclined to be." Eamon said. 

45.2 Teagan 

Teagan and Alistair left Kathryn and made their way to the main hall and pulled a couple chairs in front of the grand fireplace. 

"Another brandy?" Teagan asked. 

Alistair looked as his empty glass. He appeared to desperately needed a few more of these. "Yes, please." 

"It is too bad Kathryn felt compelled to check on the others and could not join us. She is quite consciousness." Teagan said. 

"Oh, no, that's not it. I mean she is consciousness, but she went back to talk to Eamon privately. No doubt the adults have things to discuss." Alistair said. Teagan noticed that he said it without any resentment. Teagan filled Alistair's glass and handed it back to him. 

Alistair was different than the last time the group came through Recliffe. He carried himself differently, had a different bearing. He seemed more confident, more at ease with himself and others, self assured and relaxed and then there was something else, that somehow despite all the distress and peril they were in he seemed… happy. As he had watched him, he could still see the glimpses of the child he was but those were being replaced by the vision of the man he was becoming. 

While Alistair had been through a lot in the time since they had been here, Teagan suspected something else. He knew of Kathryn's fondness for him and his affection for her, but last time they had only been friends. He wondered if that was still the case and was determined to find out. 

"The two of you must be quite close for you to know her intentions based on so little." Teagan said. 

"Yes, we are." Alistair said but seemed embarrassed and unsure. 

"She is a wonderful woman." Teagan said, watching Alistair's reaction. "Courageous, intelligent and pragmatic." 

"Yes, she is… yes." Alistair said and took another sip of brandy. 

"It would be no surprise for you two to become friends, given the close proximity of travel and fighting together." Teagan mused. 

Alistair looked over at Teagan and smiled. "Is there something you want to ask me?" 

Teagan smiled. "I would not presume to ask, but one would have to wonder about the extent of your relationship." 

Alistair looked thoughtful and then said. "We are… together." 

"You have an understanding between you?" Teagan said. 

Alistair looked confused. "I… I don't know what you mean by that. I… I love her and she says that she loves me." 

"Do you doubt her word?" Teagan said. 

"No, I don't. I just have a hard time believing she would feel that way about me." He said. "Every morning I expect she'll wake up and realize she's made a horrible mistake and kick me out of the tent in no more than my small clothes and I really should not have said that." Alistair rubbed his eyes. 

Teagan laughed. "Do not worry about it. If it makes you feel any better I already suspected. You gave it away earlier." 

"I wasn't staring, was I?" Alistair asked. "I try not to, but I can't help it. You'd think I'd be used to seeing her but that's not the case." 

"No, that wasn't it at all." Teagan said. "Neither of you said good night, which would indicate that you intend on seeing each other before morning and it is already quite late. One can draw their own conclusions." 

"I just don't want you or anyone to think that I don't…" Alistair said. 

"I don't think anything of the kind, believe me. I can see the great affection and respect you have for her and I know she cares a great deal for you as well. Given your situation, I doubt anyone and least of all me, would blame you for taking your pleasures when you can." Teagan said. 

Alistair seemed to relax. Teagan continued. "To have an understanding between you means while there are no official ties, you both are committed to each other to the exclusion of anyone else and intend to make your bond official. It will save you unnecessary explanation in future." 

"Thank you. I'll remember that." Alistair said. 

"I am very happy for you. She is… exceptional." Teagan said with warmth. 

Alistair took a sip and looked at Teagan. "You like her." 

"I... I am impressed with her both as a leader and as a person." Teagan said with a smile. 

Alistair took another sip and looked thoughtful and serious. "Teagan, if something happens to me…" 

"Do not speak..." Teagan said. 

"No, please. It is a minor miracle both of us have survived this long, and if I don't… if I can't… for whatever reason, just promise me you'll look after her." Alistair said. 

Teagan sighed and nodded. "I promise I will do my best." 

Alistair swallowed hard. "And if that happens and if you… if the two of you… I'm fine with that." Teagan looked at Alistair and marveled at how much you had to love someone to do what he had just done. 

Alistair looked into his brandy. "She isn't perfect. She wants to be. She thinks that she should be, but she isn't. She has doubts and worries and they haunt her. She wants everyone to think she is somehow indestructible, that she can do all this and have it not affect her. But it does. She has been through so much, and it has taken a toll on her, but she won't let it show." He looked up to Teagan. "And she needs someone who knows that." 

45.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn closed the door to her room and walked over to the fire. There was almost too much to think about, not the least of which was Eamon's plan for making Alistair king. She hadn't considered it as a possibility before, but she really should have. Perhaps she was just not used to thinking of him as Maric's son, as the 'bastard prince' but as just Alistair, as… her… Alistair. But if he became king, and she Teyrna… 

There was a knock on the door. She walked back and opened it. Alistair stood in the doorway, looking concerned and even a bit nervous. "It is probably highly improper for you to entertain a male guest in your room this late." He said. 

"True, so hurry before anyone sees you." She said. He stepped inside the room as she closed the door. "I thought that you might want to talk." 

"No," He said, taking her face in his hands. "I don't want to talk." 

45.4 Teagan 

Teagan knocked on the door of Eamon's study. 

"Come in." Eamon said. Teagan opened door. Eamon was at the desk writing. There was a stack of papers on one side and another stack of letters on the other. 

"Brother, it is late you should rest." Teagan said. 

"I have been resting for weeks now. There is too much to be done, too much for me to rest now." Eamon said. 

"Isolde?" Teagan 

"She is sleeping. She's exhausted." He said. 

"Have you talked to her?" Teagan asked. 

"No. But I will. I know why she did what she did but still… no, I cannot think about that now. There is the Blight and Loghain and Redcliffe is safe. The rest I will deal with later." Eamon said. 

"I'll have a servant bring you some tea." Teagan rang the bell. 

"Thank you. Teagan." He looked up, putting the pen down and rubbing his hand. "Here you are taking care of everything even with me awake." Eamon smiled at his brother. "I simply cannot thank you enough for what you did." 

"Enough." Teagan said. "I did what I had to, as you would have." 

"Yes, we all must do what we must, what we have to, what we can. Given the unimaginable situation we find ourselves, and all that is at stake if we fail." Eamon said. He looked over the letter he was writing. "I do wonder that the Maker doesn't get a good laugh at all our plans and schemes and attempts to control the future." 

There was a soft knock on the door and the servant opened the door. 

"Please, bring us up some tea." Teagan said. 

"Yes, ser." The servant said and disappeared. 

Eamon looked up to Teagan. "He is different than you said." 

"Indeed, he is much changed from the last time he was here." Teagan said. 

"And to what do you attribute the change? The mission they are on, its severity and difficulty, all they have endured?" Eamon said. 

"Yes, I believe that is all part of it." Teagan said thoughtful. 

"But not the whole of it?" Eamon said. 

"In truth, not even the largest part." Teagan said. "It seems Alistair and Kathryn have an understanding between them now, which was not the case before." 

"I suspected as much. Alistair still wears his heart on his sleeve and obviously adores her. She plays her cards close to the vest, as I would expect from Bryce's child." Eamon considered. "But it seems she has had quite an effect on him and a good one at that. All our teaching and the abuses of the Chantry and she turns it all on its head in less than a year, quite astonishing really." 

"Do you really think he can do this?" Teagan said. 

"When I first devised this plan it was because we had so few options that whether I thought he could rule or not had little to do with it. As bad of a ruler as he may be, he is still better than Loghain. I figured that we could deal with his failings as a king after the Blight and civil war were over, for first we had to make sure there was a country left to rule." Eamon said. 

"But he is much stronger than I thought. I am starting to believe that he can. He is not yet who he will be, but I see shades that person. If he continues to develop along those lines..." Eamon said. "It seems that she has been good for him. She fosters his strength and maturity, encourages him to assert and think for himself. She guides and teaches. I must say, she would make a wonderful queen." 

Soft knock on the door and then it slowly opened. The servant brought in a tray with tea and set it on the table. "Is there anything else?" the servant said. 

"No, thank you." Teagan said. The servant withdrew with a bow. Teagan poured the tea and handed a cup to Eamon. 

"So I take it there is little reason to have anyone make the bed in Alistair's room." Eamon said with a smile. 

"I think very little. Unless he decides to try to keep up appearances by messing it up." Teagan said. 

"I am happy for them both. I cannot begrudge them whatever joy or pleasure they can find. So much is being asked of both of them, and so much more, I think, will be before this is all over." Eamon said. 

45.5 Kathryn 

Kathryn pulled the blanket around both of them as they sat in front of the fireplace. Alistair rested his head on her shoulder. 

"Arl Eamon wants to make me king at the Landsmeet." He said. 

"Yes, I heard." She said stroking his hair. 

"I never ever wanted that, not even in my wildest dreams." He said. 

"I'm not sure I believe you." She said. 

"What?" He said, pulling his head back and looking at her. 

"Are you telling me that you never, not even once all those nights in the monastery never imagined your father, the king, coming for you in a gilded coach, making all the other initiates insanely jealous, and taking you home to a shining golden palace where you would live happily ever after, eating all the cheese you wanted." She said. 

"Well, I…" He said with a slight smile. 

"Or that at Ostagar you never looked at Cailan in his glowing armor and priceless weapons and thought that you could do just as good a job as him, if not better." She said. 

"Well, maybe… but I also imagined being captured by wood sprites but that didn't mean I wanted…" He said. 

"Wood sprites?" She said eyes wide. 

"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything." He said. 

"Wood sprites?!" She said insistent. 

"Ummm… well… there was this report by a templar who had... He was probably just drunk and just got robbed by some female bandits but he thought he had been captured by… wood sprites… and… I mean… the descriptions were very… detailed… and there were pictures too… I really shouldn't have mentioned it." He said embarrassed. 

"Well, as long as you don't want to act it out or have me dress up." She said. 

"Oh, no, no, no… long over that… besides according to the pictures not much for you to dress up in. Although if you're interested, I have heard some interesting stories about water nymphs." He said suggestively. 

"No, no, no, just stop right there." She said laughing. "But given you read about the honey, we are now even on embarrassing fantasies." 

He laughed, then looked serious and took her hand. "I don't want to lose you." 

"You can't, not really. If we care about each other, that's all that really matters." She said. 

"I agree. I don't intend to do anything to jeopardize that, trust me." He said. "But I want to be with you too. I want you close enough to talk to and laugh with and wake up with. I don't want to lose all that." He said. "I thought it might be tough if you became Teyrna and me a Grey Warden, but if I'm king and you're Teyrna… that's me in Denerim and you in Highever. Even if you're Warden Commander and I'm king… we would have duties and responsibilities that might… battles that we won't be fighting together. And I know we are getting way ahead of ourselves, but..." 

"Well, I won't let you go. No matter what." She said. 

"Nor I, you." He said determined. 

"Then we will just have to find a way to make it work, won't we?" She said. 

"And we will. There is always a way." He said with resolve. "King or no king, I'm not letting you get away, that's for sure." He pulled her close and kissed her and then kissed her again and again. 

Finally she pulled back. "You can't be ready to go again." She said. 

"Actually, I can be and I am." He said as he leaned in. "Wait, does me going to be king make this whole thing more or less scandalous?" 

"Oh, more! Much, much more, defiantly." She said. 

"Fantastic." He said with a sigh. "Oh, nearly forgot. I just happened to go by the kitchen before coming up here and look what I found." He pulled out a small bottle filled with a thick amber liquid. 

"Honey?" She said eyes wide. "What? You… you're not serious." 

"I most certainly am." He said. 

"You'd be… willing to do that?" She asked. 

"Well, yes, at least willing to give it a shot." He said. 

"Really, I… oh." She said. 

"And I figure you can think of an appropriate way to thank me for fulfilling your deepest, darkest desire." He said. 

"Well, it isn't that deep or dark but, what did you have in mind?" She asked coy. "Dare I ask?" 

"I wouldn't go so far as suggesting anything, but…" 

"I'm not dressing up as a wood sprite." She said. 

"I wasn't going to ask you to. I don't even want you to, really I don't. I really don't." He said. "I was simply going to comment that there is a lot of honey in this jar." 

"Oh! You mean you want me to… oh!" She smiled. "Well, I… do like honey." 

Chapter 46: Eighteenth Camp 

46.1 Alistair 

Alistair checked the cart, making sure everything was secured. The Arl had given them a great deal of supplies: food, cooking utensils, blankets, soap, nearly anything he could think of that might be of use to them. While Alistair didn't know for certain, he suspected that the Arl had also given Kathryn a good bit of coin too. 

Alistair was still amazed that things had turned out as well as they had, that they had actually been able to cure the Arl. He was very glad of it, not only because they needed him to stop Loghain but he had not wanted things between them to end the way they had. That first day they had talked about the amulet and many other things. It had been a lot of information to take in, too much really. For him to learn so much of what he had thought his entire life had been untrue, was a disconcerting feeling, unsettling, like the ground moving beneath him. Maric had disowned him at request of his mother, who wasn't who he thought she was, that she didn't die but gave him to Maric, it was even possible she was still alive, somewhere. It seemed for every answer there were more questions. 

Then as if all that wasn't enough, there was Eamon's plan to put him forward as king. Something he had been told his entire life would never happen. Part of him was terrified of the very idea but there was another part that… wasn't. He kept turning the idea of him being king over and over in his head, getting used to it, letting it settle into his consciousness, and unbelievably it wasn't as an uncomfortable feeling as he would have thought. Still, there was something in the back of his mind. Something that was bothering him, although he didn't know what it was, but it would wait. 

Yesterday he and Eamon had talked more. Alistair had told him about the monastery, the templar training, about the Grey Wardens and Duncan, and about Kathryn. Eamon didn't ask about the extent of their relationship and Alistair didn't volunteer. While in his mind they were not doing anything wrong, he knew others especially the nobility would not look on what they were doing the same way and he didn't want to damage Eamon's opinion of Kathryn. 

Eamon and he had even played a couple rounds of the king's game which he suspected Eamon let him win as he had when he was a child but somehow he was glad he had. That night, they had a feast of wild boar with currents and stuffed pheasant with apples and fennel, cheese and bread and wine, lots of wine, in fact. The group had recounted their adventures for the Arl. All they had been through, at least the exciting parts. 

Satisfied that the cart was secure, he made a last check on the bottle of fine Antivan brandy Teagan had given him. Alistair knew if Zevran found it, he'd never see it again. It was well hidden along with what was left of the bottle of honey. 

Alistair started back up the main stairs to the castle. Eamon was standing by the gate. "All secure?" Eamon asked. 

"Yes." Alistair said. 

"I do hope the supplies will be of use to all of you." Eamon said. 

"Yes, they will, believe me. Thank you." Alistair said. 

"I also wished to discuss something with you." Eamon sighed. Alistair could tell that whatever it was he had to say, it was not something he wanted to mention. "Do you think it wise for you to go on this trip?" 

Alistair was confused. "What do you mean?" 

"Well, if, Maker forbid, something were to happen to you, we would have no way to confront Loghain. It may be wise for you to stay here, out of danger." Eamon said. 

Alistair started to shake his head. "No, absolutely not. I'm not going to stay and let her… no." Alistair turned to go back down the stairs. He didn't want to get into an argument with Eamon but he wasn't about to abandon Kathryn. 

Eamon, however, was not so easily dissuaded. "I know that as a Grey Warden, you have responsibility to fight the darkspawn, but if something happens to you, we would have to surrender to Loghain and with him in power we may not be able to stop the blight before it engulfs Ferelden. You would agree stopping the Blight is the most important consideration and we must all do what we can to ensure that happens as soon as possible." 

Alistair stopped and looked at Eamon. He could see the logic of what he was saying, and he knew that he had to do what was best for Ferelden, whatever he must to end the Blight but he also knew that this was wrong. 

"No." Alistair could see the surprise in Eamon's eyes. Eamon suspected that he would resist but eventually give in, and before he would have, but not anymore. "I'm not going to stay here while she does this on her own. Ferelden needs her just as much if not more so than me. If something happens to her, it won't matter whose king." 

"She has companions as devoted to ending the Blight and to her as you are." Eamon said. 

"But they aren't me." Alistair said. "The answer is no." 

"Alistair, you have a duty to…" 

"Ferelden, yes, I know, and I have to do what I think is best to fulfill that duty and that is by going with her." Alistair said. 

"Do you not think that Kathryn would…" 

"I would what?" Kathryn said as she emerged from the castle. 

"…agree with me." Eamon said. "I was saying that perhaps it would be best if Alistair stayed here out of danger, for if something were to happen to him, we have no way to challenge Loghain. He is simply too important to risk." 

Kathryn looked concerned and after a moment, she looked to Alistair. "He has a point." 

"No. I'm not leaving you to do this on your own. I'm not." Alistair said. "I'm safer with you than anywhere else in Thedas, as you are with me and Ferelden needs both of us. Without you it won't matter whose king." 

"I could order you to stay." She said. 

"You could try." Alistair replied. 

She smiled at him and then turned to Eamon. "I guess you have your answer." 

"Yes, it seems I do." Eamon said with a resigned smile. Alistair could tell that as much as Eamon believed he was right and as disappointed as he was that he had not carried the argument, Eamon was also pleased that Alistair had stood his ground. 

"We will take our leave now." Kathryn said. "Thank you for everything." 

"No, it is I who should be thanking you, not only for all you have done for me and my family, my lands and those under my care, but for Ferelden and all of Thedas." Eamon took Kathryn's hand and kissed it. He turned back to Alistair and tentatively put his hand on Alistair's shoulder, gripped it slightly, and then let go."Maker watch over both of you." 

Kathryn and Alistair started down the stairs to where the others were gathering around the cart. As they got out of earshot Kathryn said. "You know, my love, he did have a point." 

"I know and I don't care. I'm not leaving you." Alistair said. 

"You sure you don't want to at least think about it." She said. "You could be nice and safe in a castle with plenty of food and sleeping in a warm bed as opposed to being in constant danger from darkspawn, assassins, demons, bandits, and Maker knows what else, eating your cooking, and sleeping on the cold, hard ground in a drafty tent..." 

"…with you. We are in this together, remember." He said. "So, yes, I'm sure." 

"Well, you can make it sound as romantic or noble as you want but don't think that I don't know that's only because you want to lie with me." She said. 

Alistair stopped. "And you're point is… what exactly?" He said with a smile. 

She turned back and smiled. "Have I told you recently how much I love you?" 

"Hmm… not today at any rate." He said. 

She stepped closer to him and whispered. "Well, when we make camp I'll show you." She started down the stairs and then turned back to him. "You did pack the honey, right?" 

"Of course." He said. She smiled and then turned and continued down the stairs. Alistair watched her. 'My love,' he whispered to himself. She had called him, 'my love.' 

46.2 Jowan 

Jowan woke when he heard the door to his cell open. The guard said. "Come on. Time to go." 

For a moment, he thought they were taking him to be executed, but as the fog in his head cleared he remembered that he was to be released into the Warden's custody. 

He followed the guards up to the castle and then outside into the early dawn. He had not been outside or even seen the sun in weeks or perhaps it had been months. It felt like he had spent half his life in that dungeon. They continued walking to the village and then across the bridge and there they waited. It was getting quite bright outside, as the sun appeared he could do little more than squint. After some time the group appeared. 

Kathryn stepped up to the guards. One of them turned to Jowan. "You are being released into the custody of the Warden in order to aid her in the defeat of the blight, but know if you are discovered outside of her charge you will be killed on sight." The guard then turned to Kathryn. "I hereby release the prisoner into your custody. Maker watch over you." With that they walked back across the bridge. 

Kathryn smiled at him. "Are you all right?" 

"Yes, the light… it's just bright." He said. 

"Let me introduce you to everyone." She said. "This is Alistair of the Grey Wardens." 

"Yes, we… umm… Hello." Jowan said. 

"Hello." Alistair said apparently not any happier that he was coming along, but the fact that she introduced them meant that she didn't know they had… talked. 

"I would assume you know Wynne." She said. 

"Well, only by reputation. Pleased to meet you." Jowan said. 

"Well met." She said a little icy, but that was to be expected. 

"Leliana." She said indicating the pretty red haired woman. 

"Pleased to meet you." He said. 

"Welcome." She said warmly and with an accent. "Glad to have you join us." 

Jowan smiled. "Thank you." He said and he meant it. 

"Morrigan." Kathryn said as she indicated a black headed woman who while beautiful seemed aloof. 

"A pleasure." Jowan said. 

"That's only because you don't know her." Jowan heard Alistair say under his breath. Morrigan glared at Alistair who didn't seem to notice or care. 

Kathryn, obviously used to the bickering, indicated the male elf. "Zevran." 

"Good to meet you." Jowan said. 

"Likewise." Zevran said. He also had an accent but not Orlesian. It was somewhat charming. 

With the introductions over they started out. Outside of town they were joined by a Qunari who glared and only grunted when introduced. Jowan wasn't sure how to respond and so didn't. Jowan decided that he would stay clear of him. 

46.3 Leliana 

Leliana watched Jowan as he struggled to keep up. She doubted that with him being from the circle he had ever walked so much in his life, in addition he hadn't had any exercise in weeks. But it was more than that. She could tell he was too thin and most likely in the first stages of starvation. 

She walked over to him. "Hello." 

"Hello." He said a bit breathless and with effort. 

"Are you alright?" She asked as she handed him her water skin. 

He took a couple large drinks. "Better now. Thank you." He handed the skin back to her. 

"If you need to stop…" She started. 

"No, I'll be fine." He said. "It is much better than being in the dungeon or being dead for that matter." 

"That's one way of looking at it." She said with a smile. "They probably didn't feed you well in the dungeon." 

"Not really, and that was when they remembered to. But there was a lot going on and I was responsible, so I can't complain. They were only keeping me alive to execute me, rather ironic, that?" He said."If you don't mind me asking, you sound…" 

"Orlesian? Yes. I was a bard in Orlais before coming to Ferelden and joining the Chantry." She said. 

"You were an initiate?" Jowan said. 

"No, a lay sister. I was only affirmed." Leliana said. 

"Oh, why did you join the Chantry?" He asked. "If you don't mind me asking, I mean… I don't mean to pry or anything." 

"No, I don't mind." She said. "As a bard, I did more than just play and sing. I have done many things that I now regret. I came to Ferelden and the Chantry to get away and make a new life." She said. 

"Then why are you doing this?" He asked. 

"Well, after a time, I was ready to do some good with the skills that I possessed, and there can be no higher mission than defending the Maker's world against the Blight." She said. 

"Yes, I can understand that. I have made several bad decisions in my life, obviously, and I do want to make amends." He said. "Lily, she… you know, it doesn't matter." 

"Who's Lily?" She asked. 

Jowan sighed. "She was someone I loved and that I thought loved me." 

"Why is it that you think she didn't love you?" She asked. 

"Because, she didn't know me, not really. When she found out about the blood magic she… rejected me. She didn't care about the reason or want anything more to do with me. She loved who she thought I was, who she wanted me to be but not who I really was." He said. 

"I… yes. I understand." Leliana said sadly. "It is hard to find out that the person you love is not who you thought they were, that they didn't feel the way you thought they did." 

"Yes." He said. "Do you ever really get over it?" 

"Not completely. It causes a wound, a deep one, that even after time and healing leaves a scar. But one day you find that you are able to move on and love again." She said. 

"You think so." He said. 

"Yes, I do." She said. 

"I hope you are right." He said. "I really do." 

46.4 Jowan 

Jowan was exhausted. Nearly every part of his body hurt, legs, feet, hips, back, shoulders, neck. Every muscle was sore, joints ached, skin had been burned by the sun and wind. He had never walked so much in all his life and the thing was tomorrow he would have to do it again. He had to remind himself how grateful he was to be alive. 

They had finished setting up camp. He had done whatever was asked of him whether unpacking the cart or carrying firewood or helping to set up the tents. He had even lit the fire and gotten a mumbled 'Thank you' from Alistair. 

With the camp set up and Alistair cooking dinner, he decided to take the opportunity to clean up. The time in the dungeon had done nothing for his personal hygiene, in truth, he was filthy. His robe a tattered, stained mess. He dragged himself to the small pond on the outer edge of camp. He took the robe off and splashed himself with water. He really needed soap but this would do. The cold water felt good. He was out of sight of the others and quickly took off his remaining clothing and waded into the pond. 

The water was cold and he knew better than to stay submerged too long. He washed as best he could and waded back to the edge. He concentrated on each part of his body, warming it just enough to dry himself. He took his robe and tried to wash it, but it was, in truth, beyond washing. He carefully started to dry it when he heard a rustle coming from the direction of camp. 

"Jowan?" Kathryn called out. Oh Dear Maker! He was naked without time to even put his small clothes on. He heard the soft rustle of the bushes. He held the remnants of his robe in front of him and watched as Kathryn appeared. 

He thought she might laugh at his predicament, for in truth if this was happening to someone who wasn't him, he would find the situation hilarious. She apparently had better manners than that. He thanked the Maker for the restraint and diplomacy of the nobility. From looking at her, you couldn't have told that there was anything wrong at all. She didn't stare, her eyes didn't widen, she didn't smile, well she did but just her normal beautiful smile. He just hoped that she was so concentrating on not noticing his obvious nakedness that she didn't notice anything else about his current state. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt but I hadn't realized that you intended to wash up before dinner and I wanted to give these to you before you finished." She said. Jowan then noticed that her hands were full. "I brought you a complete change of clothes, shoes that are better for walking, washing soap with a cleaning cloth and a razor. I know it isn't a mage robe but it is clean. We can get you a new robe or whatever you need when we get to Denerim." 

"Denerim?" Jowan said. 

"Yes, the weather in the mountains is too bad to approach Orzamar now. We will go to Denerim and wait for a break before continuing on. I will leave you to your bath, but do not take too long for dinner will be ready shortly." She turned and disappeared back into the brush. 

Jowan, thought that he must be a complete idiot. He didn't even think to say thank you for the clothing and soap, not to mention that he hadn't thanked her for saving his life yet. He looked at the pile she had left him. There was a set of commoner clothing, small clothes and socks. It was thoughtful of her, more than that, it was kind. Not that it surprised him that she would be. 

He would wash up with the soap, shave and change, and well maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea for him to take another dip in the cold water before getting dressed. Yes, he thought, that would probably be a good idea. 

46.5 Kathryn 

Kathryn could not help but smile as she walked back to the fire. She had hoped to catch Jowan and give him the clothing and soap before he had gone to wash up and definitely before he had a chance to get undressed but she hadn't. 

She could tell he was utterly humiliated, but in addition to his acute embarrassment, unsurprisingly he was more than a little happy to see her. Once again she was grateful for the manners she had been taught as a child, for as embarrassed as he was, no doubt he would have been completely mortified if he'd any idea that she had noticed. But he had held the robe too close to him to entirely hide his… feelings. 

His torn and tattered robe had also not hidden the fact that he was painfully thin. No doubt he had not eaten well during his stay in the dungeon. He would need time to recover from the effects of the malnutrition. 

As Kathryn sat by the fire, Wynne sat beside her. 

"Are you certain that bringing Jowan along is a good idea?" Wynne asked. 

"Apparently, you do not and neither does Alistair but I believe that he can be of use to us. Whether he is or not is up to him." Kathryn said. 

"He may put us in more danger than those we fight. He is an apprentice who did not even take the Harrowing, not to mention the fact that he is a blood mage." Wynne said. 

"Although, you just did mention it." Kathryn said. She knew she was more hostile than Wynne's legitimate concern called for but Kathryn had not felt the same about Wynne's unsolicited advice since she had tried to get her to end her relationship with Alistair. "He did defeat a desire demon in the fade, which I believe would be very similar to the Harrowing, yes?" 

"That is true." Wynne reluctantly admitted. 

"You know, if you are so concerned, perhaps you should talk to him, get to know him and then you can find out if you truly think he is a danger or not. Perhaps he only needs some guidance, direction and support, as many do. I admit he has made some bad decisions but that alone does not make him a bad person." Kathryn smiled. "The same way that you're treatment and handling of Anerin while regrettable does not make you a horrible person, despite what he might have thought of you." 

Wynne looked at Kathryn. "Hmmm… and here I thought I was supposed to be the wise sage advising you." 

"Just because you are old does not mean you have a monopoly on wisdom." Kathryn said. 

Wynne laughed. "A fair point." She shook her head. "I must admit you have shown me the error in my thinking before and perhaps with Jowan you shall again." 

"What do you mean?" Kathryn asked. 

Wynne took a deep breath. "I have watched you and Alistair for a time and… I believe that I was wrong not only about the two of you, for there does seem to be something truly special between you. But that I was wrong to give advice about a subject in which I had so little direct experience. While I know much of love, or perhaps it is better to say I know much of the things that masquerade as love, I have not the experience of the true love that you two share." She said. "You have shown more wisdom in this than I would have imagined possible. I looked at you and remembered how I was at your age, and failed to realize that you are far wiser than I was. That despite your age you have in so many ways more experience of life and a greater understanding of its mysteries than I ever shall." 

Wynne looked over to where Alistair was finishing dinner. "I look at him and remember meeting him and thinking what a dear boy he was, but he isn't any longer. He has grown, matured and even blossomed under your guidance. He is less guarded with you, seems more confident and self-assured. There is in him a belief in himself he did not have before. He has not changed as much as he has become more himself and he seems genuinely happy, which I can tell is a feeling he is not accustomed to." 

Wynne looked back to Kathryn. "I was too harsh in my judgment before, and I am sorry. I am glad you had the wisdom to ignore me and trust your own feelings and instincts. While what you have may not last forever, death or duty may part you, love's worthiness is not diminished because of that. I should have seen that before. Instead, you have learned to cherish every precious moment that you spend together, And well, it bring warmth to these old bones to know that something so beautiful can be found in the midst of such chaos and strife." Wynne grasped Kathryn's hand for just a moment before letting it go and walking away. 

46.6 Zevran 

Zevran sat as close as he could to the fire without singeing his hair and he was still cold. He wondered if he would ever truly be warm again. It would take at least a week laying in the warm light of the Antivan sun for him to simply thaw out. 

He watched as Jowan returned from the pond washed, shaven and dressed in clothing that while unflattering was at least clean. Zevran could see that he no longer had to avoid getting downwind of him. Jowan sat down but in the place next to the fire that Alistair normally occupied. Zevran looked over to where Alistair was and saw him slightly bristle at having his spot taken. Zevran knew that nothing upsets people as much as when their familiar routine is disturbed. Alistair being a templar and Jowan a blood mage already made for a tense situation. Zevran knew what it was like to be the outsider in the camp, and to be on the other end of those looks by Alistair and decided to do the boy a favor. 

Zevran leaned over getting Jowan's attention. "My friend, while I would not suppose to give one advice, however I would suggest you rethink your choice of location, for that spot is one that Alistair occupies when he is not… preparing food." Zevran hesitated to call what it was that Alistair did 'cooking.' 

"Oh." Jowan said and immediately got up. He indicated another spot and Zevran nodded his approval at the choice. Jowan sat down. "Thank you." He said to Zevran. "Templars are bullies and I know he is just looking for any excuse to run me through." 

Zevran never would have described Alistair as a bully. "I believe you misunderstand. I can see that he is suspicious of you, yes, but you must admit it is not without cause. At heart he is a good man, gregarious of nature, generous and even kind but not one to cross. I would be wary of rousing him to anger if I was you, or anyone for that matter, but if you prove your good intentions, he will quickly warm to you." 

"I have to say I rather doubt it." Jowan said. "Kindness is not a quality templars display." 

"Then you are fortunate that by his own admission he is not well suited to being a templar." Zevran said. 

Zevran looked up as Alistair took one of the bowls and ladled a large piece of meat into it and then smothered it with vegetables and a generous portion of the broth. He saw the look on Jowan's face which clearly showed the thought of 'How typical that he'd take the best portion for himself.' but that was not typical for Alistair and Zevran wondered at it. 

Alistair stepped away from the pot, indicating to the rest that dinner, such as it was, was at fit to be consumed. Zevran watched Jowan who looked at the pot with all the rapture of a feral dog, but to his credit and judgment, he waited till all the rest had gotten their portion. Then Jowan cautiously scooped out what remained in the pot, a few vegetables and broth, into a bowl. He grabbed some bread and started back to his position when Alistair walked up to him. Alistair looked at Jowan and then at the half filled bowl and took it from him, handing him the full bowl, that he had not touched. "Here." Alistair said. "You need it more than the rest of us." And without waiting for Jowan to answer, he walked away. 

Jowan was stunned. He turned to look at Zevran as though to confirm that had really happened. Zevran smiled and shrugged to indicate that he had told him so. Jowan sat and attacked the stew clearly concerned that Alistair would change his mind at any moment and take it back. 

Zevran knew hunger well. He had seen it in others and felt its sting himself. Not the kind of grumblings before a meal either but true deprivation, and the weakness that comes with it. It was hard not to feel sorry for Jowan, and very few elicited that response from him. 

Zevran also had to admit, it was nice to not be the bottom of food chain anymore, and entertaining for there to be someone new to observe. He quickly noticed a strong crush developing in Jowan towards Kathryn. Zevran could see the way Jowan's eyes darted to her and then just as quickly darted away, how he would only look at her out of the corner of his eye and when he thought no one was looking at him. Not that such was at all surprising, she had saved him from death, shown him a measure of kindness and she was utterly gorgeous. Zevran could relate. 

In fact, it would be nearly impossible for Jowan not to develop some kind of crush on her. All of them loved her, all of them in their own way were in love with her, even the Quanri, maybe especially the Quanri. Zevran had to admit that if there had been a chance for him, he would have taken it, for her to look at him for even one moment the way she looks at Alistair. One would do a great many things to be looked at in such a way by such a woman. 

Kathryn leaned over and said something to Alistair out of the hearing of everyone else but by his smile and the reddening of his face, Zevran got the general idea. He also realized that Jowan was about to be hit with a very nasty shock. 

Within a few moments, Kathryn and Alistair both got up and disappeared into the Warden's tent. Zevran watched as Jowan nearly choked on his stew. Zevran couldn't help but smile. Jowan hadn't seen that coming at all. Kathryn and Alistair were very discrete. Partially because Kathryn was a noble and nobility simply didn't display affection in public, and partially out of habit from when Roland was with them. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had never seen the two of them kiss, not even a chaste kiss on the cheek or a proper kiss on the hand. So while the group knew, it would not be obvious to an outsider that they were together. 

Jowan looked over to Zevran with eyes wide. "They… he… she… are together! I mean… together together!" 

Zevran had the thought to say no, they simply do that to keep warm or are very private about their cribbage games or something equally asinine but for the second time this evening he decided to take pity on him. "Well, if you mean together in the sense that they profess to be in love, share a tent, and engage in lovemaking that would exhaust a half dozen minxes, then yes, they would be together." 

"Oh." Jowan said staring intently into the empty bowl. He seemed understandably disappointed, but Zevran noticed he did not display the resignation he expected him to. Jowan stood and looked at where they had disappeared into the tent for a few moments before disappearing into his own. 

This could get interesting, Zevran thought. 

Chapter 47: Nineteenth Camp 

47.1 Jowan 

Jowan followed Kathryn, Alistair and Leliana. Kathryn had picked up a notice on the Chanter's Board regarding a caravan that had been heading towards Redcliffe but had never arrived. They were checking along the caravan's known route. Kathryn and Alistair had sensed darkspawn and the four of them were slowly making their way towards them. 

They came upon the remnants of the caravan and the darkspawn that had attacked it. There was several genlocks, an alpha and an emissary. 

"I got the emissary." Alistair said. 

"You sure?" Kathryn said concerned. 

"Yes. I got it, just keep the rest off me." He said. 

"Don't I always?" She said with a smile. 

"What do I do?" Jowan asked. 

"It's pretty simple. Your first job is stay alive, second is to make sure everyone else does too, especially Leliana. She's your partner for this battle, so you stay close to her and do whatever she says. We work best when we work together, you'll learn everyone's talents and eventually how your skills will fit in to the group. For now, just do whatever you can to the things trying to kill us." Kathryn said. 

"I can do that." Jowan said. 

"At least, we all hope so." Alistair said. 

"Ready?" Kathryn said. Leliana nodded. Alistair gave her a slight smile and put on his helmet. "Go." 

Alistair smited the emissary and then charged it. Leliana and Kathryn were firing drawing the attention of the other darkspawn. They pinned the alpha. Kathryn took out her daggers and rushed it. 

Jowan had never been in a battle before, the fight with the desire demon, yes but that was nothing like this. He didn't know what to do, he didn't want to do something and accidently hurt one of them. He just stood there as the others acted and reacted faster than he could even think. He looked at the darkspawn as they started towards them. He had never seen one before. They were… horrible, worse than he had imagined. Maybe he couldn't do this… maybe this was a terrible mistake… maybe he just wasn't ready… maybe… those four darkspawn were within range of a fireball. He looked over Kathryn was far enough away that if he aimed to the right of the four she would be out of its range. 

Jowan had practiced that spell but only on a small scale. Fireballs the size of grapes he would toss at the rats in the dungeon. He figured now was as good a time as any to try one at full power. He cast, watched as the fireball formed in his hands, felt the heat along his neck and face as it quickly grew to nearly the size of a barrel. He watched as it flew to the feet of the first darkspawn, saw the blast, felt the heat and the ground shake. Had he really done that? Three of the darkspawn were knocked to the ground while the last was went to its knees. Two of them got up slowly and one didn't get up at all. 

He heard Leliana yell. "Nice!" He smiled then heard her yell. "Get back!" Oh right, he thought they were still coming. He ran behind Leliana as she fired around him. He turned to see that the other darkspawn were still approaching. 

He could feel the panic but he had to stay calm, he had to think. They were coming, getting close. Ice! The cold blast was another spell he had practiced just not at full power. He focused the mana through to his hands, felt the water condense on his skin, saw the flakes of snow drifting from his fingers. He watched as they approached. He had to wait till they were in range. He could hear them growl and laugh, that was close enough. He felt the cold flow through him and out of his hands. The first two darkspawn froze in place. The next two slowed considerably as frost formed around them. Leliana took careful aim and put an arrow through the first and it shattered. Jowan was out of mana but he had one more trick. He focused, funneling his life force through him instead of the mana. He felt the power collect in his hand and then he threw the punch. The force flew from his hand to the other frozen darkspawn shattering it. 

Alistair cut down two of the remaining darkspawn as Kathryn sliced through the other. They were all dead. Kathryn looked at Jowan and smiled. "Well done!" Jowan smiled back. 

47.2 Zevran 

Zevran settled in to a comfortable spot next to the fire. Kathryn and Alistair were playing a match of the king's game. Wynne was kitting a large… something. Leliana was composing, strumming on her lute, writing things down, humming something, and then doing it all over again. Jowan was sitting quietly finishing off his third serving of dinner. 

Jowan seemed quite pleased with himself. The report from Leliana was that he had made a good showing in the battle, killing two darkspawn himself. There was a great deal of relief on Jowan's face. Apparently, he had never been in a battle before and now he knew that he could handle himself. As things stood there were only one crime that warranted execution and that was incompetence and their many enemies would take care of enacting the penalty. 

Zevran moved slightly getting the light from the fire just right. He pulled out One Hundred and One Antivan Nights from his pack. He was nearly done with the book. While he had read it before, it was always a good read and reminded him of home. But as interesting as the drama contained in the pages was, the one developing before him was also quite fascinating. Jowan still looked longingly at Kathryn, who was either oblivious or pretending to be, while Alistair was neither. 

"Antivan Nights?" Zevran looked up to see Leliana standing by him. "That's an interesting book." 

"So it is. Have you read it or know it only by reputation?" Zevran asked. 

"I have read a great deal of it. Oh yes. Such books are quite common in Orlais, passed between the noble ladies, guarded as closely as jewels." Leliana said. "You would be surprised at the things bored and lonely noble women get into." 

"Truly, I would be quite interested if you wish to educate me." He said. 

"Perhaps another time." She said. She looked at the book. "From what I remember, it was quite enjoyable read. Most of it anyway, some were a little overdramatic, embellished for effect, but many of the stories were very good, and some of the techniques quite effective." 

"Any in particular that you recall?" He asked. 

"There was the one about the fountain was lovely and does actually work. I can attest to that from personal experience. Then the night in the rain, such a heart-breaking story. Then the one in the garden with the rose petals and candles was so sweet and romantic. The carriage with the galloping horses, that was… stimulating. Then the confession on the balcony when he carried her to the bed. Oh. Then there was the one… you know… THAT one, the mythical chapter 96. I tried that a couple times but could never get it to work. I think the author just made it up." Leliana said. 

"No, I can attest that it is possible but the male has to be quite strong or the female quite light, then it is very enjoyable. It is a bit tricky to get the rhythm right so as to be mutually satisfying but well worth the effort." Zevran said. 

"I will keep that in mind." Leliana said. "Enjoy the book. Good night." He watched as she disappeared into her tent, and then as Kathryn and Alistair also retired to theirs. 

He looked over and Jowan's eyes darted away. Zevran could tell by the red in his cheeks he had overheard every word of their conversation. He walked over to him. "Here, something for you to read." 

47.5 Kathryn 

"Oh… oh, oh, oh… no, not there… there… yes, yes… oh… yes… oh, ah, ohhhhhh…" Kathryn said. 

"Is that better?" Alistair said. 

"Yes. Much better. So, do I get a massage like this every time I hurt my shoulder? For if that is the case, I might hurt it every day from now on." She said. 

"Well, I might be persuaded to provide such services but it depends on what I get out of the deal." He said. 

"What you mean something besides the sheer joy of helping me?" She said. 

"Yes, besides that." He said. 

"How about my eternal love and gratitude?" She said. 

"Nice try but I already have that." He said with smile. "I really meant something, you know, useful." 

"Well, you keep doing that and you can have anything you want." She said. 

"Is that so? I'll have to think about that. I might ask for all kinds of unspeakable things." He said. 

"I'm not too worried about that. How are you going to ask for something unspeakable?" She said smug. 

"You forget, my love, I can draw you a picture." He said. 

"Oh..." She said but then she smiled. He had called her 'my love.' 

"You and Leliana, you weren’t really talking about my performance, were you? I mean she was just teasing me, right?" Alistair asked. 

"Why do you want to know? Are you nervous about me complaining of your faults or extolling your virtues?" She asked. 

"Either or both. Really just mortified by the whole idea." He said. 

Kathryn smiled. "Do you really want to know what we were talking about?" 

"You know, on second thought, I don't. I really really don't." He said. 

Kathryn smiled and rolled over onto her side, stretching out her shoulder. "Nearly good as new. You're quite good with your hands." She said and then with a smile, sighed. "So, what unspeakable thing do you wish from me in payment?" He looked down thoughtful and seemingly embarrassed. "Oh. You do have something in mind. It can't be that bad, can it?" Kathryn said. 

"No, it's not. At least I don't think it is." He said. "I just… umm…" 

"Alistair," She said making sure she had his eyes. "if I'm not willing to do it, I'll tell you. I'm not going to be upset if you ask for something I'm not comfortable with. We are working through this together." 

"I know." He said. "I just don't want to pressure you." 

"I know that and so I won't be if you agree not to be upset if I refuse." She said. 

"Of course, I wouldn't be." He said. 

"And I ask you to do something that you don't want to do…" She said. 

"I doubt that happening, to be honest, but all right." He said. 

"Good. But just so you know, I'm not playing out your wood sprite fantasy." She said. 

"No, I told you I don't want you to. I really don't." He said and then sighed. 

"Well, this is obviously something you've thought about and want, so ask me. I might surprise you." She said. 

He laid down beside her, running his fingers along her neck, down her chest and over her side, finally resting his hand on her hip. "I… can I… touch you?" He asked. 

Kathryn looked at him confused. "I don't understand. You touch me all the…" He moved his hand down the front of her hip. "…oh." She said surprised. 

"If you don't want me too, I…" He said. 

"No. I mean… not 'No, you can't.' I… I didn't expect you to ask for that. I thought you'd ask for something else, something for you." She said. 

"Well, it's not that I don't want you to. I do, actually but I wouldn't ask for something like that." He said. 

"I just… I hadn't thought about it, honestly. It's just… that's very personal, in a way even more than…" She said. 

"I would think it would be." He said. 

"Can I ask you why you want that?" She said. 

"I want to learn about you. I want to make you happy or happier, if I can and the more I know about you I figure the better I can do that." He said. 

She smiled at him. "Is that the real reason?" 

"Yes, I'd rather make you happy than anything." He said and then smiled. "Besides I figure as long as I can make you happy I'll get whatever unspeakable thing I want out of you, eventually. I mean you would look wonderful dressed up as a wood sprite." 

"I told you I'm not doing that." She said. 

"You say that now." He said with a smile. "Just you wait…" 

She laughed and then leaned forward and kissed him. "All right." She said. 

"Are you sure?" He said. 

"Yes, I am sure." She said. "Just be…." 

"Gentle, I figured that." He kissed her as she rolled her onto her back. She took a deep breath as he traced his hand down over her hip, over the top of her thigh to her knee, then he slowly came up the inside of her thigh. She started breathing hard and then harder as his hand reached the top of her thigh. Then carefully and so very tenderly he moved his hand to her. 

"Oh Maker!" She whispered. 

47.6 Jowan 

Jowan watched as the sun slipped behind the trees. The camp was quiet. He had been involved in another battle. Kathryn had a second notice from the Chanter's Board about refugees threatened by darkspawn. While the notice was old, it was on the way. They had found the refugees fending off an attack by over a dozen darkspawn. The battle had been hard fought and won but that wasn't what he was thinking about now. 

During the battle he had seen Wynne healing the group, keeping them fighting. But after the battle, some of the refugees had been injured. He had watched as Wynne went from one to another of them healing, treating their wounds, giving them comfort and peace. He had watched in awe. 

Mages generally pick an area of magic to specialize in. Given his difficulty with magic he had picked or it had been strongly suggested that he focus on the easiest school of magic – primal. He had never thought about healing, since it required considerable finesse, which is not something he had an abundance of anyway, and a great deal of study, but now he wondered. 

Finally, he got up the courage and walked over to where Wynne was knitting a cloak, or blanket or something. 

Wynne looked up. "Yes, Jowan can I do something for you?" 

Jowan sat down next to her. "I wanted to ask if you could teach me to do what you do? To be a healer?" 

Wynne stopped and put down her knitting and considered. "Can I ask why you wish to learn this?" 

"Why? Isn't it obvious?" Jowan asked. "To help people. I saw what you did with the refugees. That was amazing. I want to be able to do that. With all the fighting the group does, they probably need a lot of healing, right?" 

"Jowan, do you know anything about healing, or spirit healers?" She asked. 

"No, not really, rather why I'm asking." He said. 

"Well, allow me to explain." She said. "Relating to healing magic there are three levels of injuries. The first level are minor injuries, minor cuts or burns, bruises and scrapes, injuries not severe enough to knock someone out of a fight but that are still taxing and they leave a being weakened and open to more serious injury. These are the injuries that the body can heal itself rather quickly. Now these can be cured by any mage who knows the basic healing spell or by a healing potion, and then of course there is a regeneration spell, but all that does is increases the rate the body can heal itself from these types of injuries." 

"The injuries that are more serious than just minor ones, but still not fatal or crippling, the ones that take someone out of a fight at least temporarily and persist for a while until they have time to heal, such as major bleeding, broken bones, concussion, coughing blood, cracked skill, damage to sight or hearing, head trauma, open wounds, or wrenched limbs, those are beyond the power of any mage. They can only be cured by an injury kit or through the power of a spirit. And to become a spirit healer, you must make contact with such a benevolent spirit and convince them to use their power on your behalf. With you being a blood mage, I doubt that happening." She said. 

"What does that have to do with anything?" Jowan asked. 

She said. "Well, as a blood mage, you have a connection with a demon and so I doubt a spirit would …" 

"But there is no demon." Jowan said. 

"What?" Wynne asked surprised. "But how did you learn blood magic if not from a demon?" 

"I learned blood magic from a book, well a scroll. But there was, is no demon." He said. 

"You learned blood magic from a book… a scroll." Wynne said incredulous. 

"Technically, a couple of them, but yes." He said. 

"Oh." Wynne considered. "Well, I can teach you the basic healing spells and the ones specific to spirit healing. But while you can learn the spells without the spirit, they don't work. And I can't help you contact a spirit since once choose me. In addition, there is a great deal of study that goes into it, for a misplaced or even mistimed spell can cause more harm than good." 

"I still want to try." Jowan said. 

"Alright." Wynne said pleased despite herself. "Let's start with a basic healing spell." 

47.7 Alistair 

Kathryn stepped into their tent, holding the flap open for Alistair to take. He stopped. "I'll be right there." He stepped back and let the flap close. He walked over to where Jowan was sitting. Jowan looked up from the book he was reading. 

"I know you have feelings for her." Alistair said. 

"No. No, I… I don't." Jowan said. While he did have feelings for Kathryn, he vividly remembered the confrontation in the dungeon and didn't want a repeat. 

"Yes, you do." Alistair said. 

Jowan took a deep breath. "So, I guess this is where you tell me I better stay away from her or else." 

"No, not at all." Alistair said with a smile. "I'm not threatening you, and you know I'd tell you if I was. I just wanted to let you know that I knew so that you wouldn't be worried about me finding out. All that sneaking around is a pain, believe me I know." 

"I could tell you to stay away from her, but you won't. I can tell you, that you don't have a chance with her and you are wasting your time, but you'll try anyway." He said. "I'm not going to get in the way or fight you or do anything like that. It isn't a competition. The only thing that matters is what she wants, and if she wants you instead… I'll step aside and wish you both the best." 

Alistair walked back to the tent and stepped inside. He immediately noticed something unusual. Normally, when they went to bed, he laid out his bedroll and then got undressed. Kathryn would lay hers on top of his and then she would get undressed. 

But it seemed she had already laid his bedroll on the ground and was completely undressed despite not having unrolled hers. He started getting undressed as he watched her, noticing that she was laying the bedroll out with a care she had never shown before, lining up the rolls perfectly and smoothing out the wrinkles. All the while on her hands and knees and facing away from him. He had to admit the view was pretty spectacular. He got undressed as fast as he could and got behind her wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck and shoulders. 

"You know, we need to get some sleep. It's already late." She said as she leaned back against him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

"You think I'm going to be able to sleep without lying with you first." He said. 

"That is not my problem. I'm tired and ready to go to sleep. You're the one all excited. You just need to…" She said and then stopped as he ran his hands down past her hips. "Oh… well… I was ready to sleep… until you… oh… started doing that…" She said as she gripped his arms. 

"Then that makes us even for you crawling around on the ground like that." He said. 

"I was putting down the bedroll." She said innocently. 

"Right, completely naked and making sure facing away from me so I couldn't miss your exceptional hindquarters." He said. "You did that on purpose, just to temp me. You minx!" 

"Now, why would I do that when we need to get some sleep?" She asked sweetly. 

"Because you are evil and wicked. You want to get me all excited and then deny me, just to torment and torture me." He said. 

"You poor thing!" She said. "You make it sound like you get no attention at all." 

"Not enough." He said. "I never get enough of you." 

"We do need to get some sleep." She said breathless. 

"Then I guess we will just have to be quick about it then, won't we?" He said. "Let's start by not waiting for you to turn around." 

"Ummm… as interesting as that sounds, I don't think that will work." She said. 

"Chapter 78" He said. 

"What?" She asked. "I… what are you… oh… wait… I…" 

"Trust me." He said as he gently moved her and adjusted his position. 

"Oh… I… oh oh… OH… Dear Maker!" She said. 

47.8 Jowan 

"She leaned forward putting her hands on the floor in front of her and braced. He wrapped his arms around her. His hands ran over her body, pulling, ripping at the bodice of her dress till he felt her skin, like silk under his hands. He cupped her breasts as she softly moaned. He pulled her hips back to him. As she arched her back, he pushed her skirt up to her waist. 

'Oh, take me, my lord!' she cried. He unlaced his breeches, gripped her hip and plunged…" 

"Jowan!" Wynne said as Jowan jumped nearly a foot in the air dropping the book on the ground. 

"I… I…" He said. 

"The point of being on watch is to watch for dangers. You can do no good if anyone can sneak up behind you." She said. 

"Yes… I… I… should get some more firewood." Jowan stammered and then quickly disappeared. 

Wynne shook her head and picked up the book. She turned it over to see the front cover. One Hundred and One Antivan Nights. Hmmm… she had never heard of this book. She opened to the first page and walked back to her tent.


	3. Part III: Chapters 48 through 72

Chapter 48: Denerim Part I 

48.1 Kathryn 

The group entered Denerim. They had stopped by the Dalish camp and Kathryn had asked after the elven mage Anerin. After Wynne had apologized for her misplaced advice regarding her relationship with Alistair, Kathryn wanted to at least ask about her apprentice. They had learned that he lived and after their reunion Wynne thanked Kathryn and seemed at peace. 

As they made their way to the market, Alistair stopped. She turned back to him and waited. He was looking at a building. "Do you remember that templar we found in the alley, who was hunting the blood mages?" 

"Yes, I remember we couldn't find the warehouse he referenced in his journal." Kathryn said. 

"Isn't that it?" Alistair said. 

Kathryn looked at the building recalling the description the templar had written down. "Yes, I think it is." 

"Let's check it out." Alistair said. 

Kathryn considered. "Zevran and…" 

"…Jowan." Alistair said. Kathryn looked at Alistair but he didn't meet her eye. 

"Zevran and Jowan, you are coming with us. Everyone else head to the market, we will meet you all there." Kathryn said. "Let's go." 

48.2 Jowan 

Jowan stood in the middle of the room appalled by what he saw. He thought he might be sick. The blood mages must have used this room for their rituals. The floor was covered with blood. It had seeped into the wood of the floor, staining it to a near black in places. There was more on the altar and even on the walls. Bodies were stacked along the sides. Those the mages had killed, those they had ripped their life force from to fuel their spells. 

Kathryn walked up to him. He said. "I… I thought they would be harmless, that they were just hunted and tormented by the templars. That they only used the blood magic to survive and avoid capture. I didn't know. I…" 

"This is what you want to be a part of." Alistair said as he entered the room. "This is what they all turn into, you know, what they all become. Getting drunk on the power it gives, addicted to the rush and willing to do anything for it, including kill." Alistair said. 

"You think the danger is made up by the chantry, but it's not. There's a reason it is forbidden. Blood mages only see people as fuel for their own power, and they have a total disregard for the lives of others." Alistair indicated the stacks of bodies. "All these people, and all the others because believe me this isn't all of them, all of them had lives and families, people who wait for them to come home and they never will. They all had hopes and dreams and they ended up caught and caged like animals." 

"I don't want this. I never wanted anything like this." Jowan said. 

"No, of course not, maybe they didn't either at first, maybe they were just curious, but that's how it starts. You can't do this and think there are no repercussions." Alistair said. 

"Alistair, that's enough." Kathryn said. 

"You think you'll be different, that you can handle it, but what if you can't?" Alistair said. "Then what? You want to be free, but at what cost to innocent people? If this happens now what would happen if there were no templars, no circle? How many people should die..." 

"Alistair! That's enough!" Kathryn said. Alistair looked away and then walked out of the room. Jowan turned away running his fingers through his hair. Kathryn looked at Zevran who indicated he would stay with Jowan. Kathryn nodded and followed Alistair. 

Jowan walked over to the stack of bodies. On top was a male elf, his eyes staring forward. Jowan gently closed them. Zevran stood within earshot. Jowan looked at all the death around him. "I didn't know." Jowan said. "You hear the stories but you think or maybe you hope that the templars are just making it all up." He looked at Zevran. "How could anyone do this? I… I have the power to do this." 

"And how does that make you feel?" Zevran asked. 

"Sick, just… sick." Jowan said. "I'll stop. I'll never use it again." 

"Is that the best thing, my dear Jowan." Zevran said. 

"What?" Jowan said. 

"You have a set of skills, skills that have proven useful, yes? How you choose to use them is up to you. The intent that you have when you use them is your choice. I have skills, that I use to kill, who I kill is up to me, whether I kill quickly or slowly, mercifully or viciously, all my choice." Zevran said. "Alistair is right in that blood magic seems to bring out the worst in people, the evil and weakness in them, but it does not have to be so. Now that you know this, what you do with that is up to you." 

Jowan looked around. "It is hard to see how something good can come from this." 

"Yes," Zevran said. "But that does not mean it is not possible." 

48.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn followed Alistair into the hall. He was pacing back and forth. "Now don't start." He said to her. "I know I was right about this. He thinks this is all harmless, and that the evil templars are persecuting the innocent blood mages, but he needed to see what they are capable of, why we can't let this go unchecked, what can happen once you start down this path, why this is forbidden, what it can do a mage. I know it is graphic and horrible. I mean… I didn't expect bodies lying around but still he needs to face the reality of what it is he is involved in, what he can become." 

"You're right." Kathryn said. 

"I… I am? I… but you told me to stop." Alistair said. 

"Yes, I did. You made your point and a very good one, but you were in danger of pushing him too hard. This was a shock. He needs time to let it all sink in, to process it." Kathryn said. 

"But you agree with me." Alistair said. 

"Yes, I do." She said. "He really had no idea. There is a danger and he needs to be aware of it. You can talk all you want but seeing it is different. It was harsh but, it will be good for him. It might even save his life or his sanity." 

"Oh, I thought…" He said. 

"That I was trying to protect him despite you." She said. "No, I just didn't want you to overdo it. Now, let's go collect them and get out of here." 

48.3 Zevran 

"I don't know about this, Zevran." Jowan said as they approached the door to the Pearl. 

"Come, you should enjoy yourself. Our lives are in danger every day, in such situation one should celebrate life and all the pleasures it has to offer. We have coin for our personal needs and we are unattached. There is no reason not to." Zevran said. 

"But, Zevran, I… I've never done this before." Jowan said. "There was Lily but we never…" 

"Of that I am aware, my friend. Believe me you stink of purity." Zevran said. "But do you truly wish to meet the Maker without experiencing one of the greatest pleasures of his world?" 

"Well, no." Jowan said. 

"Many come to such places for their first experience." Zevran said. 

"They do?" Jowan said. 

"Yes, of course. If you wish to learn anything it is best to learn from a professional, yes?" Zevran asked. 

"I suppose." Jowan said unsure. 

"This is the same. The workers here will teach you all you need to know to perform well, to please both yourself and your partner." Zevran said. 

"Well, I know how to do… that. I mean, it doesn't seem that complicated." Jowan said. 

"That shows what you know and why we are making this trip." Zevran said. "It is beneficial for at least one partner to know what they are doing, to know what to expect and have knowledge of some of the techniques that make the experience more enjoyable, yes?" 

"That does makes sense." Jowan said looking more comfortable. 

"And do not worry this is the best, classiest such establishment in Ferelden, although that isn't saying much." Zevran said. 

"But what do I do or say when we get inside?" Jowan said. 

"I will take care of everything, trust me." Zevran said and opened the door. 

48.4 Kathryn 

Kathryn entered the market. She walked up to Liselle's stall. "Oh my friend, it is good to see you again." Liselle said. 

"How are you?" Kathryn asked her. 

"Very well indeed. What can I do for you? More of that scented oil? The night blooming flower?" Liselle said. 

"Yes, please, and I'd also like another scent." Kathryn said. 

"For yourself or someone else?" Liselle said. 

"Someone else. A man, my… umm..." Kathryn said and stopped, she wasn't exactly sure what to call him. 

"Friend?" Liselle suggested. 

"Yes." Kathryn said, embarrassed and ashamed that she was embarrassed. 

"What did you have in mind?" Liselle asked. 

"Honestly, I don't know. None of the ones here are quite right." Kathryn said. 

"Well, I can combine them to make something special but first tell me about your… friend." Liselle said. "Is he an older man or younger, the outdoors type or more a man about town, drinks gallons of ale or enjoys wine, merchant or craftsman… handsome?" 

"Very… handsome, I mean." Kathryn said. "He's a younger man, a warrior by training. He isn't the outdoors type at all, if he never saw the inside of a tent again, he'd be happy. Much rather be sipping good brandy by a warm fire while eating fine cheeses and wearing tailored clothing." Kathryn said. 

"Ah, I know the type well." Liselle said. "Warrior, is he? So I take it he knows his way around his… weapon." 

"I… well… yes." Kathryn said as the heat flared on her cheeks. 

Liselle smiled and handed her a bottle that she had put different amounts of the scented oils into. "Here, try this." 

Kathryn took a sniff. "Oh, that's perfect! Warm and luxurious but subtle, refined. How did you do that?" 

Liselle smiled. "I do this for a living. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?" 

"No… well, I would like to… oh nevermind… I… what is that?" Kathryn asked as a stack of clothing, layers of satin, silk and lace in bright colors, caught her eye. She walked over and looked at the stack. 

"This is new: Orlesian lingerie. Small clothes but nicer." Liselle said. 

Kathryn picked up a couple pieces. They were definitely small, in red and pink and purple. "I don't really understand. They look nice but why bother if wearing under your clothes." 

"No, these aren't meant to be worn under things but by themselves, to be seen by others, but privately." Liselle said. 

"Oh." Kathryn considered. "Do men like this kind of thing? Wouldn't they prefer a woman completely undressed?" 

"Yes, they do like it." Liselle said. "I mean your… friend no doubt looks good without any clothing on at all but he also looks good in one of his tailored suits, no?" 

"Ah, yes, that's true." Kathryn said. 

"The thing with men is that they like to look at a women especially one they care for. They do like no clothing, of course, but they also like a woman dressed up, especially if dressed up for them, hence…" 

"…the lingerie." Kathryn said nodding her head. She looked over the items of silk, satin and lace. "You wouldn't happen to have anything in… black?" 

After paying for her purchases, Kathryn said goodbye to Liselle and headed towards the Wonders of Thedas. As she entered she saw Wynne, Leliana and Morrigan perusing the goods on offer but there was no sign of Alistair, Zevran or Jowan. She was about to ask if anyone knew where they were when Zevran and Jowan entered the shop. 

"There you are." She said to Jowan who had a large grin on his face. "Go pick out a robe and staff and see if there is anything else you need. If you need help with anything, especially the robe, believe me Leliana would love to help you." 

"All right." Jowan said and walked over to Leliana, who after a quick exchange grabbed Jowan's arm and headed towards the clothing section of the store. 

Kathryn turned to Zevran. "So, where have the two of you been?" 

"Ah, my dear, I took it upon myself to treat Jowan to one of the greatest pleasures of the Maker's world." Zevran said. 

"You took Jowan to the Pearl!" Kathryn said. 

"Well, yes. He fights with us, his life is in danger. It would be a great sin for him to die never having experienced the joy of lovemaking, do you not agree?" Zevran said as Kathryn glared at him with arms folded. "Oh come now, are you telling me that you would have wished to leave this world without experiencing that first?" 

Kathryn considered. "I must grant you that." She said with a smile. She looked over at Jowan "And he does look more… relaxed." Kathryn rolled her eyes and said. "Fine. How much? Never mind. Here. Is that enough?" 

"Truly I was to treat but yes, thank you kindly." Zevran said. 

"Men!" She said in mock frustration. "Speaking of which, have you seen Alistair?" 

"He was still at the Pearl when we left." Zevran said. 

"What?!" Kathryn said loudly enough to draw looks from the patrons in the shop. She lowered her voice. "He was at the Pearl!" 

"Why yes." Zevran said. "You did not… I just assumed that… oh… well… I am certain that he… that there is a good reason… for him to…" 

"Yes, I'm sure there is a very good reason." Kathryn said. "Umm… I… I should go… check on him. We… we were ambushed there before." She started to walk away and then turned back handing Zevran a large handful of coins. "Here. Just pay for whatever anyone wants. And I'll meet all of you at the tavern… later." 

"Of course." Zevran said as Kathryn turned and hurried out of the shop. 

Chapter 49: Denerim Part II 

49.1 Jowan 

Kathryn told Jowan to pick out a new robe and staff. He walked over to where Leliana was looking at some jewelry and told her that Kathryn said she would be willing to help. 

"Oh, yes!" Leliana said excited. "I love picking out clothing. Come." She took his arm. "Something blue or purple, maybe green or… no… burgundy! So striking. And shoes! You need shoes!" 

Jowan tried on several robes as Leliana and Wynne judged them. He realized that in the little time he had been with the group, he had put on weight. He had been eating his serving of dinner and then finishing off whatever was left which now that he thought about it, was always at least another portion. But he could see that his ribs were not sticking out so much, collarbone not so pronounced. He was still too thin but now he looked more like a man than a skeleton. 

And he felt like it to, he felt good for the first time in… well, ever. He knew part of it was that he was becoming accepted in the group and part of it was due to his earlier adventure at the Pearl. He had been nervous, well, terrified really. He had always been convinced that he would die in the tower having never been with anyone. He knew he wasn't the type of man that women desired to be with. Some men could look at a women and get them to lie with them, men like Zevran, but Jowan was not one of them. Lily had really been the only one to ever pay any attention to him. While relationships between the mages were discouraged if not outright forbidden, many kept each other company, some for a night, some for years. But he had never done that. 

Zevran had talked to the proprietor of the Pearl and then to a couple of the workers. Finally a beautiful blond elf came and sat next to him. She had a lovely smile and was easy to talk to. They spoke for a while and then she led him to a back room. She didn't make him feel bad that he didn't have any experience and she didn't talk to him like he was an idiot either. She simply explained things, showed him things, and led him through it. He really had had no idea it was like that. It had been rather… amazing. 

Leliana, Wynne and him finally found a robe they all agreed fit now and would when he finally got back to his normal size, that was appropriately enchanted and also looked good on him, a sturdy pair of shoes and a staff. He also picked out a cheap portable journal. Since he was learning new spells and wanting to experiment he needed a way to record everything. 

Zevran said that Kathryn had something to do but she had given him money and picked out a nicer journal for him saying that Kathryn would insist. He also found a tome about Fade travel and making contact with Fade spirits, which he thought might help him to become a spirit healer. He also found a book on anatomy, healing potions and practices. Zevran paid for everyone's purchases and then they all made their way to the tavern to wait for Kathryn and, it seemed, Alistair. 

When Leliana expressed concern for them being gone as long as they had, Zevran assured them they were fine and would be along in time. He wouldn't elaborate but seemed very confident of the fact. Jowan had to wonder what he knew that the rest of them didn't. 

49.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn entered the Pearl, somewhat out of breath. She had hurried there from the market district. It was taking nearly all the self-control she had to keep her composure. She looked around but didn't see Alistair which meant if he was still here he was in the back. Sanga walked up to her. "Welcome. Can I help you?" 

"I'm looking for someone. Male human, warrior, blond, muscular, handsome. Someone said he was just here." Kathryn said. 

"Oh, the good looking one who was with you before. Yes, he is in the back." Sanga said. 

Kathryn's heart sank. "I need to talk to him. Now." 

"Well, normally, we do not allow non-paying guests in the back." Sanga said. 

Kathryn bristled but managed to keep her voice calm. "I understand but this is important." 

"I see. He is in the last room on the right." Sanga said. 

"Thank you." Kathryn said. She walked through to the back, down the hall and to the last door on right. 

Kathryn just stood in front of it. This had to be a mistake. Sanga and Zevran, they had to have confused Alistair with someone else. He wouldn't do this. She knew he wouldn't do this. Why would he do this? He was happy and satisfied with her, at least, she thought he was. She knew that she didn't have the experience, not as knowledgeable as some, and definitely not as much as the women here but if he wasn't happy why wouldn't he tell her. She wanted to make him happy, would do anything to… he had to know that. 

This simply had to be a mistake. She knew it was. She should trust him, should believe in him, have faith in their relationship, in what he had said to her about how he felt about her. She should just leave... but she couldn't. She had to prove it was a mistake, then she would never doubt again. She knocked on the door. A voice… Alistair's voice said "Come in." 

Kathryn felt that she had been punched in the chest. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. No, there had to be an explanation. She knew him. She would give him a chance to explain, for there had to be something, some reason that made this make sense. She knew there was and if there wasn't… she wouldn't yell or do anything rash, she would just ask why. She would have to know why. She blinked several times, took a deep breath and with all the dignity she had opened the door and stepped in. 

Alistair was there, all right, standing in the middle of the room, alone and in his armor, all of it. He looked up when she walked in. "Damn. I guess I should know better than to just invite people in, shouldn't I?" He smiled. "See, I thought you were the delivery from…" 

"Excuse me." Kathryn heard a voice behind her. She turned to see a female dwarf with a tray filled with Orlesian pastries. Kathryn stepped out of her way as she walked into the room. The dwarf walked up to Alistair and said. "Ser, the baker said that he had apple and pear but was out of raspberry, however the blackberry crop was very good this year and hoped that would be acceptable. And I must say, they are delicious!" She said. "I… umm… tried one or maybe two, just to make sure they… I'll just set them here." 

Kathryn watched as the dwarf placed the tray on the low table next to a bottle of white wine. Then Kathryn noticed that the room was filled with the soft light from over two dozen candles and that nearly every surface, including the bed, was covered in deep red rose petals. 

"Is there anything else?" The dwarf asked. 

"No, that's all. Thank you." He said. She turned, giving a quick look and knowing smile to Kathryn and left the room. Sanga stepped inside. "Is everything as you wish?" She said. 

"Yes, thank you." He said. 

"Enjoy." She said as she closed the door leaving Alistair and Kathryn alone. 

Kathryn looked around the room and then to Alistair. "What… I don't…" 

"I bet you didn't know…" He said as he set his sword and shield down and began to unbuckle his gloves. "…that you can rent the rooms here. Just the rooms, by the hour. It is much cheaper than the tavern especially if not going to use the room all night, and the rooms are nicer, quieter too. Beds are a lot sturdier." He said as he took off his boots and greaves and laid them by the gloves. "And the umm… workers are very accommodating. They will get you nearly anything you want, Orlesian pastries from the baker across town, a good crisp white wine, candles and even red rose petals. You have no idea how hard they are to find." 

Kathryn looked around, stunned and confused. "Wait... just wait. You mean to tell me that you rented the room… just the room… and then got the pastries and wine and roses for… us." 

"Well, yes. Of course." He said as he lifted his chestpiece off and placed it on the floor. He looked back to Kathryn who did not look pleased. "I… I thought you'd like it." 

Kathryn looked at him eyes wide and disbelieving."You thought I'd like this! That I'd like being lured here by the idea that you were being serviced by prostitutes; that I would appreciate extensive plans made and money spent without my knowledge or consent; that I'd be pleased that you just assumed that I would wish to lie with you at any opportunity. Well, you were wrong." 

Alistair looked stunned and then crushed. Kathryn shook her head."I love it." She said laughing. Alistair smiled, relieved. "I can't believe you did this." She looked around at the room. "It's lovely, just wonderful. But… I do have one question." 

"Right, how did I pay for it? I haven't yet. Well, some of it I have. I had some money but I was hoping that you'd settle the bill when we got done. Otherwise I'll probably have to stay and work off the debt. Oddly, Sanga didn't seem at all upset at that prospect." He said. 

"While that is good to know, that wasn't my question." She said. 

"Then what?" He said. 

"Why are we still dressed?" 

49.3 Alistair 

Kathryn reached over and picked up one of the few remaining pastries from the tray and then leaned back against Alistair. "These are simply delicious." She said. "Sweet and just a touch of tartness, a flaky crust that melts in your mouth, simply perfect. You can say what you want about the Orlesians but they do know how to bake." 

Alistair smiled. He had never seen her so relaxed. She seemed miles away from the fearless commander, the courageous leader, the fierce fighter that she was most of the time. "They are good. I think you are more pleased with them than any of the rest." 

"Then you really would be mistaken." She said with a coy smile. "Really I just can't believe that you remembered me mentioning these. I mean the morning after we began our relationship, I would have thought you'd have other things on your mind besides my perfect breakfast." 

Alistair touched her face. "I remember everything about you." 

She turned to him, took his hand and kissed it, kissed the back of it, his palm and fingers. "What happened to your fingers here?" She asked indicating the second and third fingers on his left hand which were twisted and bent. 

"I broke them." He said. 

"Obviously, but they weren't set and healed badly. It must have been painful for them to be smashed like that, you had to have known. So, why weren't they seen to?" She said. 

Alistair looked away and said. "I don't remember." 

"Alistair, if you don't want to tell me that's fine but you don't have to lie about it." She said. 

He sighed. "But if I say I don't want to tell you, you'll want to know why." 

"True, but that's only because I want to know about you, what has happened in your life, what has made you who you are. Is that a bad thing?" She said. 

"No, not usually." He said. "But what if you find out something you don't like. Something that changes how you think or even how you… feel about me." 

"But if I don't know you, then I'm not in love with you but with who I think you are." She said. "Alistair, you can't only show me the good parts of yourself and keep the other parts hidden. I can't love you, until you let me see all of who you are, good and bad." 

Alistair stood and took her wine glass. He walked over and refilled both glasses and handed hers back. He took a drink and then stared at the glass for a while. 

"I told you that the initiates from noble families called me a bastard and ignored me and the rest thought I put on airs." He said. 

"Yes." She said. 

"Well, most of them did but a few… didn't." He said. 

"What did they… they beat you up didn't they?" She said. 

"Yes, not every day or anything like that but… enough." He said. "I was always small for my age, easy to pick on. Some of the others said I would grow up to be an elf and I admit for a while I did check to make sure my ears weren't growing or getting pointy. But after my fourteenth winter I started growing and didn't stop for the next four years. Nearly every month I needed new clothes or shoes, and I started getting strong. I guess all those years struggling to keep up." 

"Anyway, my fifteenth summer, the worst of the lot and three of his friends caught me alone after sparring practice. I ran at first, that's what I did mostly. If I could I would run and hide until they got bored looking for me and left. But today I was too tired to out run them and I was just… tired of running. So, I stopped and faced them and I realized that I could look him straight in the eye. I told him not to come any closer, and then he rushed me." Alistair looked down. 

"What happened?" She asked. 

Alistair shook his head. "I don't know." He looked down and picked up the amulet he wore. "It's like with this. I don't remember throwing it at the wall. Only the Arl telling me I was to go to the monastery and yelling at him and then I heard the sound of it shattering against the stone." He took a deep breath. "The first thing I remember was being hit in the face with a bucket of cold water and being held down by two of the brothers. Then they dragged me to the cell." 

"The what?" She said. 

"It was a room in the back with no furniture and only a small window. They would put the initiates in it if they were enraged or violent, if they were a danger to themselves or the brothers. It wasn't the first time I had seen the inside of that room." He said. "Normally it was only until they calmed down, an hour or at most all night. I stayed there over a week." 

"What?" Kathryn said. "But your hands! They had to see you were injured." 

"At that point a couple broken fingers were the least of my problems." He said. 

"I don't understand." She said. 

"They thought he was going to die." He said. "They thought I had killed him, that I had beat him to death." 

"But you were only a child, you didn't know, you didn't intend to kill him." She said. 

"I was past my fifteenth winter." He said. "I was old enough to hang, and they would have. They would have had to." 

"But they didn't so… you didn't or did you… kill him?" She asked. 

"No, but wasn't for want of trying on my part." He said. "Apparently when they attacked me and I fought back one of the boys ran and told the brothers. By the time they got there he was unconscious and I was still punching him as hard as I could, over and over again. Hard enough to smash two of my fingers, break some of his bones and cause internal bleeding. They called in a healer but there wasn't much they could do but wait." He looked down. "Lucky for me and him too, he didn't die. But even after they knew he would live, they kept me in the cell." 

"Why? He jumped you with three others. You were defending yourself. How could they punish you for that?" She said. 

"He was the son of a noble and I was the bastard son of a commoner." He said. "The rest didn't matter." 

"What happened?" She asked. 

"The boy's father came to take him home to recover. He wanted to see who had nearly killed his son. So they brought me to him. He asked me why I had done it. I told him because I wasn't going to run anymore, that I wasn't sorry I had done it and if he ever hit me again I'd kill him." He said. 

"Weren't making a very good case for yourself. What did he say to that?" She asked. 

"He said that I was not to be punished in any way and that this was not to be mentioned again and if he found out that I had suffered at all for what had happened he would take the whole incident up with the king and the Grand Cleric. So they let me go back to the barracks and then someone finally noticed my hand but by then it was too late to set the bone." He said. "So that's it, that's the story. I nearly beat a boy to death and I don't remember doing it. It scared me though, badly, that I could do something like that and not know it. Throwing an amulet is one thing, beating someone like that is another. It was the last time I ever lost control like that." 

"Why didn't you want to tell me?" She said. 

"Because you think I'm a good person. If you found out I'm capable of something like that or at least was, or that I was a wimp growing up… there really is nothing about that story that reflects well on me at all." He said. 

"People are not wholly good or bad and all are capable of many things when pushed. The important thing is you didn't want to do anything like that again, that you learned from it, and that you haven't done anything like it since." She said. She touched his face, bringing his eyes to hers. "You are a good person and not only do I still love you, but I do believe that I like you even more than I did before." 

He smiled. "So just to be fair, what's your deepest darkest secret?" 

"Well, I used to steal cookies from the castle larder and let the cook blame the castle soldiers." She said. 

"Wow! I don't know if I can be with such an evil, deceitful person. I think I should just walk away now." He said. 

"You want to see evil, you just try it. I'm not letting you out of this room if I have to tie you to the bed." She said. 

"Hmmm… That sounds rather saucy. But I think they charge extra if you use the ropes or shackles." He said. 

"Wait, there are ropes? And shackles?" She asked surprised. 

"I'm not sure I like the way you said that." He said. 

"I was just… curious, really." She said with a smile. 

He laughed. "I love you." 

"And I love you." She said. "Even the parts that aren't perfect and wonderful." He reached over and kissed her. He started to roll her over. "Oh, no you don't." She said as she pushed him onto his back. She kissed him on the lips and then kissed along his jaw and neck, down his chest and continued past his ribs. 

"What are you…" He said as he started to breathe harder. 

"Chapter 27." She said. 

"What?" He said. 

"Trust me." She said as she continued to kiss him. 

He leaned his head back and grabbed the bedpost. "Maker!" 

49.4 Alistair 

After settling up the bill at the Pearl, they went back to the Gnawed Noble Tavern to gather the others. He had nodded to Zevran to indicate that everything had gone extremely well. 

Given all their recent purchases and expenses, and the inflated prices at the Gnawed Noble, Alistair suggested they try someplace different for dinner, and the group made their way to The Broken Sword. 

As the group walked in, the owner hailed Alistair by drink, Antivan brandy. They put a couple of the tables together for them and even got a Qunari sized chair for Sten, and a bone for Drake. They ordered a feast of roasted pig with plum sauce and vegetables, bread and wine. They all ate until even Jowan was stuffed. 

As the sun set, the place filled up quickly with dock workers, merchants, travelers, and mercenaries, human, elves and dwarves. Then as the moon rose, they cleared the tables away and prepared to dance. 

The tavern bard started with the group or circle dances common in Ferelden. Everyone danced except Sten who Leliana insisted play the drums and Morrigan who stood in the back looking disdainfully at the rest who quickly forgot she was there. 

In the group or circle dances there are no partners, so all danced together. Then they switched to pairs dancing where everyone has a partner even though you dance in a group or in small groups. Jowan asked Kathryn to dance in front of Alistair. Jowan had guts, Alistair had to give him that. Alistair sat back and sipping his brandy, watched them dance. There were several of these dances and many of the other patrons asked her to dance as they also asked Leliana and even Wynne. After each dance Kathryn presented her hand for them to kiss. 

He couldn't help but think about how no one here had any idea him and Kathryn were together. In public, she didn't treat him any different than any of the rest of the group. In private, of course it is a different matter entirely, but he knew that the lack of any displays of affection was the only reason Jowan thought he had any chance with her. Alistair knew part of it was because she was a noble and they don't do that sort of thing and then there is the fact that she is in charge. 

But the truth of it was that she did not claim him. He wanted to tell everyone they were together for he was proud to be with her. But then he would be, a cynic would say, for he had bedded a noble, while he was a bastard and a commoner. She could have ten of such men at the snap of her fingers. She said such things didn't matter to her but on some level perhaps it did. He knew she loved him but he had to wonder that she may not be proud of him in the same way. 

The bard announced a waltz. Alistair remembered how he and Kathryn had danced together the night Leliana and Zevran had taught them this dance, despite her being with Roland. It would be hard for him to now complain that she was dancing with others when she had danced with him under similar circumstances. 

Alistair saw Jowan ask her to dance. Jowan would no doubt be thrilled to be able to hold her. Alistair took another drink, finishing up his brandy. He set the glass down and looked back as the music started expecting to see Kathryn teaching Jowan the steps and turns but instead Kathryn was standing in front of him. 

She offered her hand to him as she had to the others. He stood and started to reach for it, to gently touch her fingers with his and give her a proper and formal kiss on the hand. Then as he brought his hand to hers, she turned her hand over, exposing her palm to him. It was a simple gesture, a turn of her wrist, a twist of her arm but he knew enough about the subtleties of the nobility to know that meant everything. 

He saw out of the corner of his eye the disappointed looks from the others. He grasped her hand firmly, as she pulled him to her. He took her hand, putting his on her waist. Her hand gripped his shoulder, as they joined the dance. 

They stepped and turned and twirled through a number of dances, scandalously close together. Finally, they bowed out and retreated to a corner by the fireplace, but she didn't let go of his hand. He stood behind her, as they watched the others. He put his arm around her. She didn't move away but leaned against him, looking over her shoulder at him. He leaned in, grazing his lips against her forehead, her cheek and her lips. She turned around to face him, breathless. He gently pushed her against the wall. She didn't resist, wrapping her arm around his shoulders, touching his face with her hand. He leaned forward close enough to kiss her and waited. She looked at him, eyes searching his face. She considered and then leaned forward as she closed her eyes and kissed him. 

Chapter 50: Twentieth Camp 

50.1 Kathryn 

"No." Sten said. 

"Why not?" Wynne said. 

"I am not wearing that… thing." Sten said. 

"But it will keep you warm." Wynne said. 

"Capes do strike fear into the hearts of your enemies." Zevran said. "All the great heroes wear them. I can see it now you charging into battle, with a bloodthirsty battle yell, sword held high, yarn flowing behind you, very dramatic." 

"I cannot fight in that." Sten said. 

"Perhaps your enemies will simply cower in fear of the fuzzy softness." Zevran said. 

"You aren't helping the situation." Wynne said to Zevran. 

"My dear Wynne, that entirely depends on what you think I am trying to accomplish." Zevran said. 

"Oh, come on, Sten." Leliana said as she felt the mound of knitting. "It is warm and soft, cuddly even." 

"I am not… cuddly." Sten said. 

"If you wear that you will be the very picture of cuddliness. You should count yourself lucky it does not have kittens or rainbows on it… or fringe." Zevran said and shuddered. 

Sten growled. 

"What's going on?" Kathryn said as her and Alistair walked up. 

"Sten refuses to wear the cloak I knitted for him." Wynne said exasperated. 

"Although, 'cloak' might be overstating it." Zevran said. "It is more a large shawl like the ones old women like to wear. Really, Sten it is perfect for you. It will go wonderfully with your white hair." 

Sten growled louder. 

"Nothing says 'fierce warrior' quite like yarn." Alistair said as he looked at the 'cloak.' "Maybe Wynne can knit you some mittens to go with it." 

"Or a hat." Kathryn said. 

"No, a muff most assuredly." Zevran said. 

"Or a set of those cute little booties with pom-poms on them." Leliana said. 

"The least you can do is try it on." Wynne said. 

"No." Sten said. 

"After all the trouble she went to make it, you can try it on." Kathryn said. 

"No." Sten said but less sure. 

"Come on, Sten." Leliana said. 

Sten growled but took the 'cloak' and put it on. 

"It's adorable!" Leliana said. 

Sten growled again. 

"You know, it takes a real man to be able to pull off knit." Zevran said. 

Sten growled even louder. 

"Here, take it off." Alistair said. "Chestpiece too." Sten removed the 'cloak' and then looked at Alistair curiously. "Sten, if you don't do this my way, Kathryn will order you to wear it." 

"That's true, I will." Kathryn said, playing along. "I can't have you catching cold or the sniffles." 

"Vicious those sniffles." Zevran said in mock horror. 

Sten growled again but took off his chestpiece. Alistair put the 'cloak' around Sten wrapping it around him. Then he adjusted the chestpiece and helped Sten put it back on. 

Sten stood a moment and then said "This is acceptable." 

"Now my dear Wynne," Zevran said. "May I talk to you about a scarf or perhaps a hood, something to pull low over my eyes and look out from under. They are very sexy." 

"You don't want one because it would allow you to leer without being noticed, do you?" Wynne said. 

"A side benefit only, I assure you." Zevran said. 

50.2 Alistair 

Alistair woke, it was still dark and the moon high, but he had second watch. Kathryn was sleeping. He hoped to get up without waking her. It was hard enough to leave her, but worse if she was awake. He slipped from her arms. She rolled over and stretched and then reached across as though searching for something. Then he realized she was reaching for him. "Alistair?" She said. 

He leaned over her, brushing her cheek with his hand. "Shh… I have watch. Go back to sleep." He kissed her forehead as she drifted off. 

Alistair got dressed and stepped out of the tent after taking a last look at her. He nodded to Sten who retired to his tent. Morrigan who had already relieved Leliana, was getting some potion supplies. Alistair looked around, it was quiet and peaceful. He got a cup of tea and then took out his drawing paper and pencils. 

Morrigan got her supplies and started back to her tent but then stopped. "'Twould seem you have a rival for the heart of the Warden." 

"A rival?" Alistair said. "You mean Jowan? No, I don't think so." 

"He looks at her with intent and longing." Morrigan said. 

"No, I didn't mean that he doesn't like her, he does, I knew that already. But he isn't a rival or anything. There is no way she would ever... not for him." Alistair said. 

"Truly, 'twould seem to be little doubt that Roland thought much the same about you." Morrigan said. 

Alistair looked at her and started to say something and then stopped. He considered. "That… this… they aren't… the same thing." He said but less than confident. 

"No, and what would the difference in the two situations be? For it escapes me." She said. 

"We are together… have been now… I mean, we have gone through a lot to be together… we are happy and she wouldn't…" Alistair looked down. "He… just arrived… he just has a crush on her… it's harmless… she is just being nice to him… she's just trying to help him and… be friends with…" Alistair said looking thoughtful and concerned. 

"I thought you were going to tell me the differences in the two situations." Morrigan said smug. 

"She loves me." Alistair said sure. 

"Did she not love Roland at one time? Or at least he thought she did, did he not? Perhaps she was mistaken or she simply changed her mind." Morrigan said. Alistair looked away. 

"But then again, 'tis not like she has ever taken a weak-willed and insecure fool under her wing and tried to make a man out of him, then left her current relationship for them." She said. "No, you're right she would never do anything like that." 

"Shut up." Alistair said. 

"Touchy are we? I was simply pointing out that the situations were quite similar, and that her actions do seem to show a pattern of behavior. She is drawn to those sad, pitiful, pathetic puppy-types, that have little bark and no bite and are content to follow her around, but the problem with puppies is that while they are cute they have little else to offer and so one quickly grows tired of them and moves on to the next." She asked. 

"Go crawl back under your rock." Alistair said. 

"Yes, I thought you would say as much." She said as she turned and walked away. 

Alistair waited till Morrigan was out of his sight and then tossed his drawing materials aside. He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. He got up and went to the cart and took the bottle of brandy from its hiding place. He opened it and took a drink. He started to put it back and then took another drink, and then one more. 

50.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn stepped out of the tent. She was usually the last one up. She had never been an early riser and still couldn't manage it. Everyone else was packing. She noticed that Jowan was making breakfast. Wynne walked over to Kathryn. 

"You might want to check on Alistair." Wynne said. 

"Why? Is he all right? Where is he?" Kathryn asked realizing that he wasn't anywhere in sight. 

"He went down to the stream but he didn't look good." Wynne said. 

"I'll check on him, thank you." Kathryn said and made her way to the stream by camp. 

Alistair splashed his face with the cold water several times, and then wiped his face. He had finally put the bottle back but not before over a quarter of it was gone. It was the strong stuff too. Too strong for him to have drunk that much, that fast. 

"Alistair?" He looked up as Kathryn appeared. She looked at him concerned. He looked horrible. "Are you all right?" She asked. 

"Yes, I'm fine." He said. 

She walked up to him as her expression changed from concern to confusion. "Why are you drinking on watch?" 

"I just had a couple to stay warm." He said. 

"You had more than a couple." She said. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing. I... I just wasn't paying attention. Teagan gave me some of the good stuff. I shouldn't drink it straight from the bottle." He smiled weakly. 

Kathryn looked thoughtful. She wasn't quite buying that but had no reason to question him. "Well, if you're all right, we need to get a move on. Camp is mostly packed and Jowan is making breakfast. Hopefully we all won't need healing afterwards." She said. 

"He likes you." Alistair said. 

Kathryn smiled one of her best smiles, to Alistair it felt it like a dagger to his chest. "I know. He has a crush on me. It's to be expected. I saved his life and have been nice to him. It's just one of those harmless boyish crushes. You can't fault him for falling for me, you did right?" She said with a smile. When he didn't smile back, her expression changed. "You aren't worried are you?" 

"Should I be?" He asked. 

"Of course not. I want to encourage him and help him put the pieces back together, give him some confidence, build him up a bit. You know, be a friend to him. After all he has been through, he needs one, but that's all it is. I love you, remember." She said. 

"Is that what you told Roland?" He said. 

"What?" She said. 

"Is that what you told Roland, about me, I mean?" He said. "Did you tell him I was just a friend, that I needed one after what I'd been through, that you were just encouraging me, helping me put the pieces back together after Ostagar, trying to build me up and give me some confidence. Did you tell him not to worry and that… you loved him?" 

Kathryn looked at him, eyes cold and without expression. "No, that isn't what I told Roland about you, and although it is none of your business, since you asked, I never told him I loved him either." She said. 

"But he thought you did, he thought you loved him, didn't he?" He said. "Maybe you even thought you did, then you found you didn't or maybe you did love him once and then changed your mind." 

Kathryn looked at him confused. "Alistair, what…" She considered. "Do you think I am lying to you? About Jowan? Why would I do that? If I wanted him why wouldn't I just tell you?" 

"Because you might think that it would be better not to tell me. You do that, lie when you think it's necessary, you said so yourself." He said. "I mean, would you have told Roland what you did if you would have known he would leave? I… I don't know that you would have. I have to wonder if you would want to risk my reaction given all that is riding on us." 

Alistair turned away and started to pace back and forth. "I mean it is possible that you don't love me anymore… maybe you never did. But even if that's true, you might stay with me anyway because of the blight, because we fight together or because… well, you're a noble, you know how politics work. Maybe you figured I'd be the heir." He said as he turned back to her. "Maybe you thought if I did become king and if we… if we were together… then you would be queen… and…" 

Alistair felt the sting on his cheek, as his head snapped to the side. After a moment, he turned back to her. There was fire in her eyes, but like ice, like the burn you get from the bitter cold. "If you ever imply that I'm some kind of whore again…" 

"What? I didn't…" He said taken back. 

"Yes, you did!" She said. He had never seen her this angry. "You said that the reason I was with you was not that I loved you but because you had a chance to be king, that I was sleeping with you in a bid to gain power." 

"To lie with another for money or influence or anything is the very definition of a whore!" She said as her voice rose in volume and intensity. "I will not take that from anyone and that includes you. If you ever say anything like that to me again, you will not have to worry about what I do or don't tell you for I will never speak to you again, blight or no!" 

"I… I'm sorry. I didn't…" Alistair said ashamed. 

"What is wrong with you?" She said furious. 

"I… I don't know." He said and turned away. 

"Well, you better figure it out and fast." She said. "We are not leaving until I get some sort of an explanation. You do not get to say something like that to me and not tell me why." 

He sighed. "It was something Morrigan said." He admitted. 

"Since when did you start listening to anything Morrigan said?" She asked. 

"Since she said something that made sense." He said. "She said that the situation with Jowan was similar to me and Roland and…" Alistair took a deep breath. "I… it just never occurred to me that I could lose you, at least not like that. That someone could take you away from me or that one day you might just not care about me anymore. But if that happened with Roland… I know it wouldn't be Jowan but someone, someone else, someone who can be with you and give you all I can't." 

"If I'm king, I… I can't go with you anymore and I can't expect you to be able or willing to follow me. I'll lose you, if not to someone else, to time or distance. How long can we try, being in two places all the time? To lose you as you drift away from me, to lose you at all, I… I'm not sure I could stand it." He said. 

"Before I probably wouldn't have seen it, not wanted to, maybe not even been able to. I would have probably tried to protect myself, maybe waited till the landsmeet, hoping that somehow, something would happen to solve everything and then when it didn't… I'd probably blame it on something stupid like needing an heir saying I had a duty as king, and that's true but that wouldn't have been the real reason." He said. "But now I have to think about what I'm doing, what I'm trying to do, what I need to do, what I have to do." 

"What are you talking about?" She asked confused. 

"I have to think about what would happen if I lost you, to the Blight or time or duties or to someone else." He said. 

"You could lose me at any time, I suppose, but that's always been true." She said. 

"Yes, but before, it didn't matter what happened to me." He said. 

"What?" She said. 

"When Duncan and the other Grey Wardens died, I fell apart. When I lose you, it will be so much worse." He said. 

"You don't know you'll lose me." She said. 

"Don't I? I've lost everyone I ever cared about or whoever cared for me. They all left or were taken away and if I lost you, it would be the worst of all. Before if I fell apart or couldn't go on without you, it wouldn't matter, but now it does. I can't fall apart. I have a duty to Ferelden, to lead the country. There is no one else." He said. 

"You can't think like that or live your life that way. If you knew you would lose your arm in the final battle, would you cut if off now?" She asked. 

"No, but maybe you learn to live without it, maybe you stop relying on it, so that when it is ripped away you can survive it. You can endure it and you can go on. If I lost you, I don't know if I could. If I had to watch you die or even just walk away from me, I don't know if I could survive that and I have to survive it now." He said. 

"So you intend what exactly?" She said unsure. 

"Right now, I can walk away. I can lose you and it won't destroy me. But if I wait anymore I might not be able to leave you and won't survive losing you." He said. 

"Wait… Alistair, are you… ending this with me?" She asked. 

Alistair looked at her like his heart would break. "Kathryn, I don't…" 

"There you two are!" Zevran said as he appeared. "The camp is packed up. Jowan made something that resembles porridge, although I am unsure… Oh, am I interrupting?" 

"No." Kathryn said as she turned and walked away. "At least not anything important." 

Chapter 51: Twenty-First Camp 

51.1 Jowan 

Kathryn walked up to the fire. She was obviously upset. In fact, during the little time Jowan had been with the group, it was the first time he could remember seeing her display any strong emotion. 

"I made porridge and there is tea." Jowan said. 

"Thank you." She said and reached for the pot of water. 

Jowan saw that she didn't have her gloves on and was somehow unaware of that fact. "No!" He yelled but too late. 

Kathryn grabbed the handle with her bare hand and immediately let go. "Damn!" She said. Jowan hurried over. "Stupid of me. I wasn't thinking." She said. 

"Here. Let me see." He said and took her hand. 

"It's fine." She said as the blisters began to form. 

"It doesn't look fine." He said. "Really, I can use the practice." He waved his hand over hers as a soft blue light flowed from his fingers. She watched as the burn disappeared, leaving only reddened skin. "Now, it will be tender for about a day, so no more grabbing stuff off the fire, all right?" 

"All right." She said and smiled at him. "Thank you." He was still holding her hand. She withdrew it. 

"Here, I'll make you some tea. Strong with cream, right? Although, come to think of it, we don't have any cream, but we do have honey." He said. 

"No, no honey. Just strong, thank you." She said. She sat down by the last embers of the fire. She had a chill that she didn't think the fire nor the tea could help, a hollow ache that cut through her and somehow she was going to have to get through the day. She looked up as Alistair appeared and without looking at her started packing up the cart. 

51.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn buried her daggers deep into the chest of the bandit leading the group of highwaymen that had attacked them. "You know I really wasn't in the mood for this today." She said as she kicked him off her blades. He fell back as she turned to the others. Nearly two dozen bandits lay dead or dying around them. "Everyone all right?" She got a general chorus of yes's and nods. 

Leliana was standing off to the side next to a tree, head bowed. Kathryn called to her but Leliana didn't react. Kathryn started to walk over to check on her when she looked up. Kathryn could see the expression of pain on her face. "As the Maker wills." Leliana said. 

Kathryn looked down and saw that Leliana's leg was covered in blood and more was flowing out of her abdomen. "Wynne!" Kathryn yelled. Leliana's eyes closed as she went limp. "Leliana! Leliana! Come on! Stay with me!" Kathryn called to her as she caught her and then began slapping her face. Leliana's eyes fluttered and opened. 

Kathryn felt Alistair grab Leliana and lay her on the ground. Wynne knelt beside her. Her eyes widened as she saw the wound in Leliana's side. She tried to dress the wound, attempting to stop or at least slow the flow of blood, but within moments the bandages were soaked and more blood continued to stream through them. Wynne put her hand over the wound as white light came from her fingers and seeped into Leliana's side, but the flow of blood continued. Wynne bowed her head. 

"Wynne?" Kathryn asked. 

"She's ruptured an organ or severed a main blood vessel. I can't stop the blood and I can't heal the injury with it bleeding like that." Wynne said looking up. "I'm sorry, child." 

"As the Maker wills." Leliana whispered. 

"There has to be something we can do." Kathryn said unwilling to give up. 

Wynne shook her head. "She's beyond a healer's skill. Even with a spirit's power, there are limits to what can be healed. There's nothing anyone can do." 

"I… can help her." Jowan said. 

Wynne looked up sadly. "Jowan, she's beyond my skill, beyond even what a spirit can heal." 

"But I… don't you see?" Jowan said as he looked from Wynne to Kathryn. "I'm a blood mage! I can control someone's blood. I… I think I can stop the bleeding. Then you can heal her." 

Wynne looked confused. "I've never heard..." 

"Do it." Kathryn said. 

"Kathryn…" Alistair said. 

"Shut up." She said. 

Jowan knelt beside her. "Leliana, I'm going to try something… this is going to be painful, really painful, but you have to trust me." Leliana nodded. Jowan held up his hand as red light flared from his fingers. Leliana screamed. Her body started to violently jerk but the bleeding stopped. 

Wynne's eyes widened, stunned by what he had been able to do. Within a moment she recovered. "Somebody hold her!" She cried. "I can't do anything with her moving like that." 

Kathryn tried to hold Leliana's shoulders down as Alistair grabbed her legs and braced her hips but she continued to jerk. Sten walked over and knelt beside Leliana. He looked at Alistair and then began to recite the Qun as he braced Leliana's lower body. Alistair let go of her and then quickly moved to where Kathryn was. He pinned Leliana's shoulders, as Kathryn let go. 

Alistair looked to Wynne. "We got her." Wynne placed her hand over the wound as more white light seeped into Leliana. The wound in her side started to close. As the skin finished knitting together, the light from Wynne's hands changed from white to blue and then went out. She looked to Jowan and nodded. The light from his hands dimmed and then went out. Leliana's body went limp, but she was still breathing. Jowan was pale, sweating and his hands were shaking. 

"Did it work?" Kathryn asked them. Wynne put her hand on Leliana's side and then head. "I think it did." She said. She turned to Jowan in time to see him pass out. 

51.3 Jowan 

Jowan woke up. His head was pounding, he felt dizzy and weak. He opened his eyes. It was night. He could feel the cool night air and the warmth from the fire. He slowly sat up. He looked over to see Kathryn sitting next to him. She handed him a cup of tea. "Here. With honey, right?" 

"Yes, thank you." He said and took a drink. 

"There is food when you are ready to eat." She said. 

He nodded and then looked up. "Is… did she…" 

Kathryn smiled. "She's fine. She's resting now. Wynne is watching her but as far as she can tell she's fine." 

Jowan bowed his head, rubbed his eyes and bit his twitching lip. After a few moments, he sniffed a few times and took another drink of tea. 

He looked up to Kathryn. She smiled and took his hand. "What you did… that was amazing. You saved her life." 

"I didn't know if it would work to be honest." He said. "Every since the warehouse, I've been trying to think how to do something good with the blood magic. Somehow use it with the healing. I thought maybe… but that was the first time I had ever tried it." 

"It was amazing and it was brilliant. I think you rocked Wynne's world a bit. She hasn't said more than ten words since then. Alistair's too come to think of it. Sten was even impressed." She said with a smile. She squeezed his hand. "Thank you." 

Jowan smiled. 

51.4 Alistair 

Alistair walked to where Jowan was sitting by the fire. He took Jowan's cup and poured some of the brandy into it, handed it back and then sat down next to him. Jowan sniffed the cup, took a small sip and then another larger one. 

Jowan looked to Alistair raising the cup to him as Alistair raised the bottle in reply. "You know I always thought that blood magic was forbidden because it was too powerful, and if the mages learned it the templars and the Circle wouldn't be able to control them." Jowan said. "That the templars were all evil, that they exaggerated the danger and the mages were only doing what they had to do to stay free. You even looked up to them, thinking they were noble, risking all and fighting to stay out of the control of the Chantry. But I guess nothing is that simple." 

"No, it's not." Alistair said. "We were always taught that blood magic was inherently evil, that no good could come of it and that anyone who practiced it was power hungry, most likely insane, and would torture and kill you and anyone else just for fun. Although come to think of it, that does sound suspiciously like a couple of my trainers." 

Jowan smiled and then sighed. "I know that there is a real danger with using blood magic but I also know now that there is a way to do some good with it. Maybe I won't be able to handle it, but I guess there is no way to know that for certain without trying, is there? I really think that there is potential there, that if I work on it and study and can become a healer, a true spirit healer that there might be things that I can do that no one else can. Given that we are trying to stop the Blight, I think it is worth the risk to find out." 

"After seeing what you did today, I'd have to agree with you." Alistair said. 

Jowan took another sip. "You know, I have made some bad choices in my life, but sitting in that dungeon with all that time to think, I realized that I could always make a different choice. I mean, it isn't like you make one choice, one time and that's it." Jowan said. "You make those choices about who you are and who you want to be every day and while that means that you can always slip up and make a bad choice, it also means that at any time you can make a better one, choose to be something better than what you are now." 

Alistair looked thoughtful and then concerned. He closed his eyes, bowed and then shook his head, laughed quietly and rubbed his eyes. 

"What?" Jowan said. 

"Nothing, just I'm an idiot which is not news to anyone, believe me." Alistair stood up. "I need to go… do… something… if I can…" 

51.5 Kathryn 

Kathryn was hiding, the way she would do as a child by climbing the tallest tree she could find. She didn't want to talk to anyone, and especially didn't want to continue the conversation with Alistair. Each time she thought about it, her chest would tighten and she had the overwhelming desire to scream or cry or both. This was only a temporary solution, however, for she knew that she couldn't avoid him forever. 

Alistair was afraid that he might lose her and not be able to survive it, not be able to continue on, to do what he needed to do, and while before that didn't matter, with him being king, it did. What he didn't understand was she was afraid of the same thing. She didn't know if she could do this alone. No, that wasn't true. She knew she could but she also knew it would cost her dearly, it might even cost her everything. He had been the one thing that had kept her sane, kept her grounded. The only way she had been able to hold on and not lose herself in all that had happened, in the grief and the strain and the fighting and the… everything. 

Even in the worst of times and situations, he could make her smile and even laugh. With him there had been joy and peace, happiness and ecstasy, kindness and love. He reminded her why they fought and struggled, why they sacrificed, why this world was even worth saving. If he left her, there would only be duty and revenge. 

"Kathryn!" She heard Alistair yell from somewhere below her. She wiped her eyes and curled up, hiding in the embrace of the tree. She wasn't ready to talk to him, to hear his justification for ripping her heart out and abandoning her. She couldn't listen to that and stay calm and her pride would not let her show him how upset she was, how much he had hurt her. He could wait till she was able to stand there stoically as her heart broke. 

"Kathryn, I know you're here. I can smell that scented oil you wear." Alistair looked around and then up into the thick weave of branches but she was well hidden. "All right you don't want to talk to me. I can't blame you for that, but please at least listen." He said to the trees and got only the soft rustle of the leaves for an answer. He took a deep breath. 

"I love you. I do, you might not believe me after... But I do. I… I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anything." He said. "It's just that everyone I ever cared about, left or was taken from me and I knew you would be too, one way or the other." He looked down and then back into the sea of leaves. 

"I did fall apart when Duncan died and I know losing you would be so much worse than that. And the thing is… I have a duty now, to Ferelden. I can't allow myself fall apart like that again. The only way I knew to avoid that was to walk away from you while I still could, while I could survive losing you. Because I knew if I waited much longer, I wouldn't be able to tear myself away and then when I did lose you, it would destroy me." He said to the trees as he paced below their branches. 

"But I had forgotten one very important thing in all that…" He said looking up into the trees. "I forgot that I'm not that person anymore. I'm not the person who fell apart after Ostagar. I'm different now. I'm stronger than I was then, and that's mainly because of you." 

"You told me that courage is a choice, but I found out, it isn't a choice you make once and then never again. It is a choice you must make over and over again. And because you have to choose it over and over, it is so easy to choose to run instead, and that's what I did. I choose to run away." He said. He bowed his head. "I… I failed you and I failed myself." 

"But I don't want to be the kind of person who runs away because they are scared. I don't want to be someone who is too frightened to… love you the way I want to... the way you… deserve to be." He said to the branches. "I mean… what kind of man would I be if I walked away now… if I… abandoned you? What kind of king can I be if I run because I'm afraid?" 

"So I want to try again, if you'll let me. I know that I can survive losing you and I promise if you give me that chance, I will do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen." He said. 

"I know I hurt you and I'm sorry. I am, so much more than you know. I… I wouldn't blame you if you hated me from now on, if you didn't want to come back… to take me back. Because I can't promise that I'll never hurt you again, that I'll never slip up again. I probably will, to be honest, because I… well, I do that." He said. 

"But if you can forgive me for this, I… I will try to make this up to you, in some way." He looked up at the trees but they were silent. "Just think about it, please." 

51.6 Alistair 

He waited, hoping but everything was still. He started back to the fire, then heard a noise and turned to see her drop to the ground. She stood and looked at him with eyes cold and slightly red. 

He walked back towards her. Then he braced himself for what she had to say. He doubted that he was going to like it, but he knew he only had himself to blame. She had every right to be angry, to let him know it and take it out on him. He had no doubt whatsoever that he'd be sleeping alone for a while. She probably wouldn't want him to touch her now. She'd need time to get over how he hurt her, then he'd have to make this up to her before she'd even consider… 

"I forgive you." She said. 

"What? Really?" He said surprised. 

"Yes, really. I don't expect you to be perfect. You are trying to change and that's a hard thing to do, maybe the hardest thing to do. I won't hold the mistakes you make along the way against you." She said. 

"Oh. I… I thought I'd have to do a lot more groveling before you'd even consider forgiving me for this." He said. 

"To be sure, there is massive groveling in your future and you will be making this up to me for a long time yet but as far as forgiving you… as far as taking you…" She stopped and looked away. After a moment, she looked back up. "…taking you back… I can do that." She said with effort. 

"Just like that?" He said disbelieving. 

"Well, if it would make you feel better I could yell at you and then act angry for a while, really make you suffer for it, and make you sleep by the fire but it's much harder to have sex with you if we aren't sharing a tent." She said matter of fact. 

"That's true." He said with a smile. 

"Besides, then I'd just be miserable too, and I'm not that spiteful." She said. "You made a mistake, that doesn't change how I feel about you. And I don't want to spend any time away from you that I don't absolutely have to." 

"Nor I, you." He said with a smile. "So… can I kiss you already?" 

She sighed and then smiled. "I really wish you would." 

He hurried to her, taking her head in his hands, kissing her long and tender, tasting the salt on her lips while he wrapped his arms around her. "I am so sorry, Kathryn." He whispered. 

"Just don't do anything like that ever again." She said holding him tight. "I mean it." 

"I don't intend to… ever again, trust me." He said as he stroked her hair. "Massive groveling, huh?" 

"Yes, massive groveling." She said resting her head on his shoulder. 

"What about the whole Pearl thing?" He said. "That has to count for something." 

"Oh, yes, true." She said and considered. "How about major groveling?" 

"All right, fair enough." He said pulling back to look at her. "Although speaking of fair, I'm not sure I really deserved to be slapped. You know I didn't mean that like… that." 

"Look, you're lucky I didn't punch you." She said. 

"Hmm… although there would have been some irony in that considering I taught you how." He sighed and touched her cheek. "Let's go to bed and I can start working on making this up to you." 

"And how do you propose to do that?" She said. 

"Chapter 54." He said. "At least to start with." 

"What?" She asked. 

"Just trust me." He said with a smile. 

51.7 Zevran 

Zevran sat at the very edge of camp and watched as Leliana slowly made her way back to him. 

"I did not expect to see you up and about, my dear Leliana." Zevran said. 

"If Wynne had her way I wouldn't be, but she is sleeping and I needed some air." Leliana said. 

"You are well, then?" Zevran asked. 

"Yes. Weak but fine." She said. "How is Jowan?" 

"Much the same. He ate his normal three servings of dinner and is sleeping." Zevran said. "The fact that he can stand that much of Alistair's cooking makes me wonder about the food they serve at the Circle." 

"I will have to thank him tomorrow." She said warmly. "But what are you doing back here?" 

"Oh, well now that everything is back as it should be, I was just enjoying the view." He said. 

"Back as it should be?" She said confused. "And what view? This spot is too low to see any of the landscape; you're sheltered by the trees, so you can't see the stars; you can't even see the fire because the Warden's tent is in the way… wait… what is… oh, just shadows… but… are those…" She looked at Zevran in horror. "You're watching them!" 

"Hush, my dear, or they will hear you." He said. 

"I can't believe you… how you can possibly… this is the most despicable thing I've ever… are they… no, they can't be." She said. 

"I assure you that they can and they are." He said. 

"But she isn't…" She said. 

"Oh, yes she is." He said. 

"But he can't…" She said. 

"Oh, yes he can." He said. 

"I… I… can't believe it." She said. 

"Just wait till you see what they do for their second turn." He said. 

"Second turn?" She asked. 

"Yes, they nearly always go two rounds, generally more." He said. 

"What?" She said. 

"Yes, it seems there are benefits to being a Grey Warden, that go far beyond fighting and sensing darkspawn." He said. "They really should consider putting that on the recruitment poster, no doubt they would get many more volunteers." 

"Wow! I… oh… OH! I can't believe we are talking about… I'm leaving." She said in disgust. 

"Suit yourself." He said watching her walk back to the fire. "She'll be back." 

Chapter 52: Orzammar Part I 

52.1 The Proving 

They entered one of the spectator boxes at the Proving. The Stewart had sent word that they, as Grey Wardens, should be considered honored guests and upon their arrival at the Proving, they had been guided to one of the royal boxes. 

One of the ushers brought in a huge tray of food. He set it down on the low table and indentified the different dishes. Roasted nug strips with hot sauce, an array of fried root vegetables, a couple types of cooked mushrooms to dip in sauce, and several kinds of stuffed mushrooms. Another usher then brought in a tray covered with mugs filled with dwarven ale. 

Jowan took the last mug for himself and seeing that no one had tried the nug, decided he would be the test subject. He took a strip, a generous helping of the hot sauce and a big bite. He could see the rest watching him. "Well?" Alistair said. 

Jowan considered. "Good. Very good, in fact." 

"Let me guess…" Zevran said. "…tastes like chicken." 

"No." Jowan said considering. "More like lamb but texture is closer to pork. Sauce is really good too." He said as he took another bite. The rest followed suit attacking the tray like a pack of jackels. 

"Oh! These are stuffed with cheese!" Alistair said taking a large bite out of one of the mushrooms. 

"Given that I do not see any cows or even goats, I would have to assume…" Zevran said. 

"Made from nug milk." The usher said. Alistair looked at the mushroom suspiciously but then shrugged slightly. "It's good." Then took another bite. 

The usher looked over them with approval. "The Proving is about to start. Is there anything else you require?" 

They heard something akin to the sound of trumpets. "They don't actually kill each other in the arena, do they? I mean… why would anyone find that entertaining?" Wynne said. 

"Not normally." The usher said. "This is an honor proving, tests of skill, to gain fame and glory. In the time of the old empire many matches were to the death, but we have lost too many warriors to the darkspawn and most of those type of matches have been outlawed. Even most duels of honor are to first blood. About the only time you see a duel to the death is in cases where someone is avenging the loss of a family member. But anytime two warriors are in the arena there is the potential for blood and death." 

"Hmm. I heard that if the spectators don't approve of a match's outcome, they rush the field and kill the fighters." Zevran said. The usher smiled. "That only happened once, in the days of the old empire. It was an honor proving. A popular warrior was killed by a most unpopular one who had engaged in what the warriors considered 'cheating.' Many of the warriors watching were so enraged they rushed the field and killed him. But the story, as most such stories, has gotten bigger with time." He looked over the group. "If that is all I will leave you to enjoy the Proving. I shall return later to see if you need anything." 

"Yes, thank you." Kathryn said. 

The first match was about to start. They all watched as the warriors walked to the middle of the field amidst cheers. 

"I thought their warriors, at least, would be bigger." Sten said. 

52.2 Kathryn 

After they had arrived in Orzammar, they had talked to the Steward and discovered the current political situation. The group had split up to explore the city and see what they could learn. 

After several entertaining rounds there was an intermission. Kathryn reached for another of the stuffed mushrooms. "So, what did everyone find out?" 

Leliana took another drink of ale. "It seems that everyone assumes that Bhelen killed his eldest brother and framed the middle one. Some even say that he had a hand in killing his father but that seems unlikely given he was not allowed to his bedside. Not allowed by Harrowmont apparently. But really no need, probably losing his sons was too much for the king. Sad." 

"I hear that while the second son was well liked and mourned, no one shed a tear over the eldest. It was understood by all that he was a horrible choice for king. There had been much talk that even if he was named heir by his father that the assembly would name the second son as king." Zevran said. 

"If Bhelen is responsible, he would have figured his only chance to get the throne was by getting both of his brothers out of the way before the king died." Kathryn said. 

"Young, ambitious, brilliant, ruthless. Hmmm… I like him already." Zevran said. 

"What about Harrowmont?" Kathryn said. 

"He has a good reputation as a man of honor. He lead in the assembly for years, good at working out compromises between the houses. More a politician than a king. No one would really consider him a 'strong' leader." Leliana said. 

"Just because a person is a good man does not in any way mean he will be a good leader, and the reverse is also true. In fact in many ways being a good leader is antithetical to being a good man. For given what is required to rule and lead, it is difficult to do both." Kathryn said. 

"But didn't the king pick him as heir?" Alistair said. 

"Yes, but Bhelen's supporters have blocked him being named. The king chooses an heir but the assembly actually picks the king. The king's choice is only a recommendation. The rumor is that the king knew Bhelen had essentially murdered his brothers but he didn't want a scandal to discredit the house so instead of having Bhelen arrested, he named Harrowmont as heir." Leliana said as she reached for another mushroom. 

"So he let his son be executed rather than risk a scandal?" Kathryn said. 

"Perhaps he did not have the evidence to prove such or did not have it until after the exile. It does seem that this Bhelen has this well planned out in advance, got him exiled very quickly. Impressive really." Zevran said. 

"It would be hard to support someone who killed his brother and framed the other." Alistair said. 

"But, my friend things are never that simple." Zevran said. 

"What do you mean?" Alistair asked. 

"Many support Bhelen and not just the nobles he has alliances with. Many in the lower castes support him, in fact, among the castless he is seen as a potential savior." Zevran said. 

"That seems odd considering he is the prince, of royal blood." Leliana said. 

"Yes, but Bhelen for all his royal heritage seems to be in favor of reform, while Harrowmont is all about dwarven traditions, history and isolation. Bhelen wants to lessen the caste restrictions if not do away with them completely, giving them jobs and allowing them to take up arms in defense of Orzammar. It is even rumored that he has a castless mistress that if he becomes king, he intends to marry." Zevran said. 

"You have a great deal of good information, Zevran. Did you tell your source to buy herself something nice." Kathryn said. 

"Yes and in green, to match her eyes." Zevran said. 

"Got a lot of play out of her never having seen an elf before, huh?" Alistair said. 

"More than you would expect, my friend." Zevran said with smile. 

Kathryn leaned over to Alistair and whispered. "Don't get any ideas." Alistair smiled. 

"No doubt she cannot claim such now." Leliana said with a knowing look. "In fact probably seen all there is to see of an elf." 

"Well, back on point, the merchants we talked to, said that Bhelen was wanting to open Orzammar to more trade, to take back the thaigs and that in turn very interested in the security of Orzammar." Kathryn said. 

"All that sounds… good, doesn't it?" Alistair said thoughtful. 

"And better for us and all of Thedas for that matter. Especially since Harrowmont appears to be taking the opposite tack." Kathryn said. "The caste system should be done away with." 

"But that is part of their history and traditions. We cannot judge them nor have the right to get rid of them because we do not agree with them." Wynne said. 

"Perhaps not the right but the power, or at least the power to support or oppose those in favor of such." Kathryn considered. "We do not have to judge on any scale of morality but simply on effect. If their traditions and blind adherence to history cause the civilization to fall and the society if not the race itself to disappear, what good is it? By any definition. The dwarves find themselves a dying race with a nearly dead civilization. It is a fundamentally flawed system that does not allow the society to adapt to the situation the dwarves now find themselves. When the empire was powerful its flaws could be hidden or masked but now as the society is under stress and attack, it prevents the utilization of resources that could perhaps halt or even reverse their decline. It causes a waste of life and manpower in a situation in which they need as much as they can get." 

Kathryn looked thoughtful. "They allow large numbers of people to suffer and die in poverty with no hope or means to improve their situation but crime for no other reason than they have been determined at their birth to be worthless when if given the chance many could be productive members of society. Such a system is not worth preserving. I will not say there are not worthless people in the Maker's world but that is solely determined by their choices and actions, to have a society that says a group of people are worthless is bad enough but to have that determined at their birth, is… unconscionable." 

"Here. Here." Alistair said with a large smile. 

"And that from a noble!" Zevran said as he raised his mug to her. "Most astonishing." 

Kathryn smiled. "Even as a noble, I was taught and believe that no one is worthless, unless they choose to be." Kathryn continued. "But in truth, the system is arbitrary and even ridiculous. You cannot tell me no daughter ever inherited the traits and talents of her… father and no son from their mother." 

"You are just saying that because you are your father's daughter." Alistair said. 

"From what I hear, you are your grandmother's son." Kathryn said. 

"So I've heard." Alistair said. 

"Both proving my point." She said. 

Alistair looked thoughtful. "I still find it hard to support Bhelen knowing what he probably did. 

"I know. However, are you more interested in justice or what is best for Orzammar? And by extension Ferelden and Thedas?" Kathryn asked. 

"Who are we to determine what is best for Orzammar?" Wynne said. 

"The ones who can, that's who." Kathryn said. "The dwarves cannot and are in danger of a civil war which will benefit no one." 

"Except the archdemon." Alistair said. 

"And defeating the Blight is our primary concern, what is best for Orzammar is secondary. We have power and we must use that responsibly but we must use it, for the result if we do not is the worse one, for either candidate at this point is better than none." Kathryn said. 

"You know, I understand all that but…" Alistair said. "…someone who is capable of what Bhelen has probably done is capable of many, many bad things. Do we really want to put someone like that in power?" 

"Point taken." Kathryn said. "I would like to talk to him, see what he has to say for himself before committing to either one. As an aside, I'm not thrilled that Harrowmont wanted us to fight to prove our good intentions." 

"You feel better about being asked to hand out forged information?" Wynne said. 

"If the parties involved can't figure out that this isn't what they agreed to, that's hardly our fault. Besides if only voting because he bribed them…" Kathryn said. 

"Isn't that politics, my dear?" Zevran said. 

"Yes, of course, but it doesn't install a great deal of confidence in him. That's all." Kathryn said. 

52.3 Kathryn 

They had talked to Lady Dace and found that her father was in the Deep Roads. They needed to show him the papers they had received from Bhelen and they were curious about the Deep Roads. The thaig was not far and Alistair had said that the Deep Roads were actually safer to travel in a blight. Leliana volunteered to go with them and once they learned they would be more likely to encounter deep stalkers than darkspawn, Kathryn decided to take Drake. 

They were nearly at the thaig and marveling at the construction of the roads, when Drake's ears perked up and he began to bark. He was excited but in a hurry, not angry but insistent. "What is it?" Kathryn said. 

"Wait." Leliana said. "Listen. Do you hear that?" 

"Yes." Alistair said. "It's a… voice?" 

"It's the opposite way of the thaig. The expedition could have gotten lost, but not likely. The guard said only things down her are scavengers and Legion of the Dead." Kathryn said. 

"I think it said 'help'?" Alistair said. 

"Why would a scavenger or a member of the Legion of the Dead be calling for help?" Leliana said. 

"I would guess that there are things down here much worse than death." Alistair said. 

"Right. Drake, go!" Kathryn said. Drake barked and began to run down a road. They followed. 

Within a couple turns, Kathryn was lost but they could now hear the voice. It sounded female or childlike and they were most definitely calling for help. They turned the corner and saw nearly a dozen darkspawn walking away from them and one was dragging a female dwarf by the leg. 

Leliana and Kathryn started firing as Alistair and Drake attacked. As the one dragging the dwarf turned at the noise from the attack, the female dwarf kicked him. It let her go. She rolled away, gaining her feet quickly. 

"Get behind me!" Alistair said as he cut through a hurlock. She looked up at him, surprised at the sight of a human or anyone for that matter. She got behind him, taking a moment to catch her breath and pick up a couple darkspawn daggers that had been dropped in the fight. Kathryn took out her own daggers and charged. She watched the dwarf as she then attacked the genlock attacking Alistair. 

Kathryn liked her already. Not only did she have skill as a rogue but she had taken the first opportunity to break free, had obeyed an order without question, picked up weapons at the first chance and though injured was fighting. No damsel in distress here. Kathryn joined the fight, as the darkspawn bodies began to pile up the rest turned and ran. 

After waiting to make sure they weren't doubling back to attack, Kathryn turned to the dwarf. "Are you all right?" 

"Oh, I think I cracked a rib." She said feeling her side. "Thanks for helping me out. I didn't want to be a darkspawn's dinner or… worse." 

Drake walked up to her and barked his happy bark. "Oh, hi there! I've never seen one of these before." Drake looked at her curiously. "Can I pet it? How about I pet you? Would you like that?" Drake again gave a happy bark as the dwarf scratched him gently behind the ears. 

"What are you doing down here?" Kathryn asked. 

"Legion of the Dead. My company got attacked by darkspawn. We were overwhelmed, outnumbered. I… I ran." She said. "I don't think any of the rest survived." 

"We should check, just in case." Alistair said. "I'd hate to have them… captured." 

"Do you know where they are?" Kathryn said. 

"I think so." The dwarf said. "This way." 

After some time, although it was nearly impossible to tell time in the deep roads, they came upon the bodies of nearly two dozen dwarfs. They searched but they all seemed to have perished. Then the dwarf yelled "Varlan!" and ran to a male dwarf. Kathryn started to follow her, when Alistair grabbed her arm and shook his head. They watched as 'Varlan' gave the dwarf a ring and then died. She stayed beside him for a while, head bowed. Then she got up and walked over to where the rest stood. 

"Would you like to do something for your friend?" Kathryn asked gently. 

"We passed a lava pool. We could put him in that, then the darkspawn wouldn't… you know." Alistair said. 

"Yes, I… I'd like that." She said. They gathered what supplies and weapons they could. The dwarf picked out a nice dwarven waraxe and dagger. Alistair picked up the body of the dwarf and they made their way back to the lava pool. 

"May the Ancestors guide you as you return to the Stone, my friend." She said and then pushed the body into the pool. They watched as it immediately caught fire and then quietly slipped beneath the surface. As they started to walk away the dwarf turned to Kathryn and said. "Oh, by the way, my name is Sigrun." 

Chapter 53: Orzammar Part II 

53.1 Kathryn 

"So what do you think?" Alistair said as he handed Kathryn a cup of tea and took a seat next to her by the fire. 

"About Bhelen or our newest companion?" Kathryn said indicating Sigrun who was completely enraptured by the night sky. 

"Both. Start with our new companion." He said. 

Kathryn looked over at Sigrun. Without anywhere else to go or much else to do, Sigrun had accompanied them to the thaig. Even with a cracked rib, she fought well and intelligently. She was personable, warm and funny, one could even say 'perky' and that was something the group could always use more of. Both Alistair and Drake had given Kathryn puppy eyes that asked 'Can we keep her?' Kathryn couldn't refuse even one set of puppy eyes much less two of them. 

After talking to Lord Dace, Kathryn said that they were going to return to Orzammar and asked Sigrun what she intended to do. 

She said that she should not have run from her death but stayed and faced it and that she would now make that right, that she would head back into the deep roads and look for more of the Legion. 

"But even in the Legion you don't try to get killed, right? Isn't the point to kill as many darkspawn as possible." Alistair said. 

"Well, yes." Sigrun said. 

"An honorable death means something. It has a purpose. The death accomplishes something. If it doesn't then it is just a tragic waste of life." Leliana said. "Even if the person is already dead." 

"Exactly. Why fight to the death if there is no benefit?" Alistair said. 

"Well…" Sigrun said thoughtful. 

"If you had stayed behind, you would be dead, literally, and all the darkspawn you've killed since that time would still be alive, and killing other people. There is no shame in leaving an impossible situation so that you are able to fight at another time when you can accomplish something." Kathryn said. 

"I never thought of it like that." Sigrun said. 

"Besides," Kathryn continued. "You don't know where any of the Legion is, could take you days…" 

"… or weeks…" Alistair said. 

"… months, even…." Leliana said. 

"… to find them. And if you are interested in killing as many darkspawn as possible, with the Blight most of them have fled to the surface, anyway. Plenty to kill up there, and as Grey Wardens that's the majority of what we do." Kathryn said. 

"I've never been to the surface. Is it true there isn't any ceiling, just a sky that goes on forever?" She asked. 

"Yes, that's true." Kathryn said. "And after the Blight, if you want you can come back or we will need to rebuild the order eventually. You could be a Grey Warden if you wanted." 

"Can you be a Grey Warden and a member of the Legion of the Dead?" She asked. 

"Well, I don't see why not." Alistair said. "Both groups fight darkspawn till they die in the deep roads. Being a Grey Warden would give you the ability to sense them and make you immune to the taint." 

"Oh, that would be useful in fighting them." Sigrun said. "All right." 

Ever since they got back to camp, in truth since they had left Orzammar, Sigrun had been amazed and fascinated by everything, from the sounds of birds to the height of trees, to the smell of flowers and the beauty of the night sky. 

"I like her a lot." Kathryn said. 

"Me too." Alistair said. "She's like a puppy." 

Kathryn smiled. "She thinks you're handsome." 

"What?" He said. 

"She asked me if all human men are as good looking as you are. I had to inform her that sadly, they are not. That in fact you are one of the better, if not one of the best looking ones." Kathryn said. 

"Hmm… I like her ever more now." Alistair said. 

"Just because she is feeding your vanity." Kathryn said. "Well, I think you might have competition." 

"Who?" Alistair said. 

"Zevran." She said. 

"What?" Alistair said. "He hasn't say more than five words to her." 

"I know but he is watching her, and has been since we got back." Kathryn said. 

"If you hadn't noticed he watches most females." Alistair said. 

"No, he stares and leers and ogles most females. He is watching Sigrun." Kathryn said. 

Alistair looked over. "Oh, I see your point. You think that maybe he likes her… like… likes her likes her?" 

"I don't know but it is interesting possibility." Kathryn said. 

"So what do we do with this information, help, hinder, abstain?" Alistair said. 

"For now, abstain." She said. "We'll see how it plays out but if there is interest and if it is mutual then…" 

"Full matchmaking mode." He said. 

"Exactly." She said. 

"Now about Bhelen." He said. 

"As much as I hate to admit it, I like him." She said. 

"You do?" He said a bit surprised. 

"Yes, ambitious, brilliant, charismatic, what's not to like?" She said. "I'm not saying I'd like to share a pint at the tavern but he has a clear vision for Orzammar and what he wishes to accomplish if he becomes king. He also seems dedicated to defeating the darkspawn, of protecting Orzammar, which benefits our cause. I believe that he can and will get us the troops we need." 

"You forgot ruthless. He would cut down anyone standing in his way or might stand in his way or might think about standing in his way, without a second thought or any thought at all." He said. 

"True, but that may not be such a bad thing." She rubbed her forehead. "Bad things for good reasons or good things for bad reasons. Good men and bad leaders or bad men and good leaders. So, in the end do you do what is best for Orzammar despite the past? The most good for the most people." She said thoughtful. 

"Ends justifying the means?" He said. 

"Sometimes they do. Not always, but sometimes." She said. "He might just be exactly the person to turn Orzamar around." 

"There might be a terrible cost." He said. 

"Isn't there always?" She said. "And you? What do you think?" 

Alistair took a deep breath and considered. "I don't trust him. I don't think he is a man of honor or has any morals to speak of but as much as I hate to say it, I'm not sure that matters as much as I'd like it to. He wants to be king, wants the power and is willing to kill for it, even if he didn't actually kill his brothers. But he doesn't just want it so he can play at being king and have everyone fulfilling his every whim. He wants to do something with it, maybe even something good. It is hard to say that Orzammar and Ferelden and even Thedas won't be the better for it." He shook his head. "He says he is going to do something, I believe him. He would be a strong, even powerful ally, but one I'd watch closely. I want to support Harrowmont on principal but I can't." 

"There are no easy answers." She said. 

"But you're sure, Bhelen is the one we should support?" He said. 

"No, I'm not sure of anything, never have been." She said. 

"Really? And here I thought you were completely convinced you were always right about everything." He said with a smile. 

"Hardly." She said. "Father told me as a ruler that whatever you do even if nothing, do it confidently. If it proves to be the wrong thing, admit it and then confidently do something else." She looked thoughtful. "You make the best decision you can make, based on all the information you can gather, considering all the factors and ramifications. You make it as quickly as possible without rushing and then act decisively. You always do the best you are capable of and that way even if it turns out badly, you have no regrets." She looked down and rubbed her eyes. 

Alistair waited till she looked back up and weakly smiled at him. "At the Proving, you mentioned that you had been taught that no one was worthless, which from what I can tell is a rare view among the nobility and then what you said just now…" He stopped and took a deep breath. "Your father… by all accounts, he was a good man, a good ruler, a good husband and obviously a good father. He was well respected and even loved. How did he do it?" He said. "It's just that I'd like to learn about him, what he did and thought and said, what he taught you, because if I can somehow figure out how he did all that then maybe I can figure out how I can too, if that makes sense and you don't mind." 

Kathryn smiled. "It makes a lot of sense and no, I don't mind at all. In fact, I think he would be honored that you wanted to learn about him." 

51.2 Alistair 

Following dinner, Alistair found a small clearing near camp. After watching the Proving today and seeing the stances of some of the dwarven warriors, he had a couple ideas he wanted to work on. He took off his armor to practice. It was easier to learn that way, to work on form, and once that's perfect you add weight, speed and strength. 

He pulled out his sword, well Maric's sword. He had wielded it since they had discovered the blade in the royal arms chest at Ostagar. He had begun to think of it has his, but not because it had once been his father's. 

It had occurred to him that he had never seen Cailan wield it, since he preferred the two handed weapons, as many knights did. As though you were judged on the size of your weapon and not how effective you were with it. Alistair could wield a two handed sword, in fact, he had at least a cursory knowledge of all the weapon disciplines, and how to use all arms effectively, but he preferred sword and shield. 

While they had come across other legendary blades in their travels, he preferred this sword to any other he had ever held in his hand. That fact had nothing to do with his father… or maybe it had everything to do with him. 

All Ferelden and most of Thedas had heard stories of this sword. It was nearly as legendary as Maric himself. The blade the wild prince wielded in the battles against Orlais and how he had found it in the deep roads as they fled to Gwaren after the disaster at West Hill. The entire weapon was a pale ivory wrought with gentle curves and inlaid with runes that glowed blue. It was made of dragonbone, light but unbelievably strong. It was truly an incredible blade, dwarven made, well crafted and perfectly balanced. 

But it was more than the quality of the sword. It fit his hand perfectly. All grips over time develop a wear pattern, a subtle adjustment to the hand of the wielder. The more you use a weapon the better it feels in your hand. When he first held the blade, he had realized that Maric and him had nearly identical grips. They held the sword in the same place on the hilt, held their fingers in the same way and same distances apart. They even had the same size and build of hand, fingers were the same length, palm same width. 

That first time he held it, it felt as though he had wielded this sword his entire life, if not longer. More than any other weapon, it felt like an extension of his own body. He knew it well, knew what it could do, what he could ask of it, how to use it to best effect. He could identify it by the sound it made as it cut through the air. At times he had the feeling that when he reached for it, it jumped into its hand. 

Through all its battles there was only one mark upon it. On the hilt was the word 'Katriel.' He had wondered what or who that referred to. In all the references and legends of Maric he never remembered any mention of such a person or place or anything close to it. It seemed an odd name for a blade and there was no mention of him every referring to the blade by that name. He ran his thumb over the inscription. Maric had put this on the hilt. It was obviously something that meant a great deal to him, and as far he knew, Alistair was the only one who knew it was here. 

He went through his general progressions and then started taking the stances of dwarves and making the necessary adjustments. There were the different builds between human and dwarf, of course. He could see their emphasis on taking damage, sacrificing mobility and relying on their constitution. However, the low stances made it harder if not impossible for them to be knocked over or even lose their balance. It was worth learning. 

While the night was cold, the mountains were over lava and there were many hot springs and jets of steam, many places like this, where the ground was temperate and covered with thick, soft moss. In fact, with all the practice he was getting quite warm. He took off his heavy undershirt. He knew it was inappropriate but he didn't think anyone would be out here looking for him and if they did would hopefully call out and give him time to put it back on. He kept working on the stances, and developed one that he felt could be very useful in the right situation. 

For the last practice rounds, he flipped the sword around several times grabbing it the other way to stab straight down and then back to his normal grip. Then he spun around, twirling the sword around him in showy swings that were good for driving an enemy back or being able to take a quick look around if surrounded without compromising defense. He spun it over head, came back around and then switched hands, working through his progressions with his left hand, just in case his right arm was ever useless, he could still fight. He switched back, then finally several dodge and roll moves. In massive or even heavy armor they were useless but he had them just in case. Enemies may not wait for you to be in full armor to attack. 

That was enough practice for one evening. He picked up his shirt and turned back towards camp and saw Kathryn standing at the edge of the clearing. "What are you doing here?" He asked surprised. 

"Oh… I came out here to ask you something or… tell you something. I don't remember now. I'm sure it was very important and no doubt I will remember it later." Her cheeks were flushed and she looked nervous. He couldn't remember her ever like… wait, there was the time at the temple with the Urn of Sacred Ashes, but much had happened between them since then. 

"Well," He looked at her confused. "if you're not asking or telling me something, what are you still doing here?" 

"Oh, I… was… just watching you… you practice, I mean." She said. 

"You were." He said. "Why?" 

"Umm… There is a very good reason I was watching you practice." She said. 

"And that would be?" He asked. 

"Oh, yes, the very good reason I was watching you practice… yes, that would be… well… because… we fight together! It is good for me to know your moves and such so we can fight together better. Yes, that's it." She said. 

"I see." He said as he stepped closer to her. "So, you watching me practice has nothing to do with the fact that I don't have a shirt on." 

"Oh, you don't have your shirt on, I hadn't noticed." She grimaced as though in pain. "Did I really just say that?" 

"Yes, you did." He said with a smile. "Kathryn, you see me without a shirt, without much of anything on, in fact, everyday, twice a day." 

"Yes, that's true but it's different with you practicing. I mean, your muscles are all tense and taut and… firm… and then with the moonlight reflecting… off your… hot… wet… steaming… skin… umm… what was I saying?" She said. 

"You were saying that watching me practice gets you all excited, aroused even." He said. 

"No! I didn't say that. Did I?" She said alarmed. "No, I didn't. Besides that's not true. I'm not excited at all. I'm perfectly calm." 

"Are you?" He said. He stepped closer to her. She was breathing rather hard for someone who was perfectly calm. "Well, that's too bad, for I was thinking about lying with you right here, with the soft moss, cool night air and the moonlight." 

"What?" She said surprised but also seemingly intrigued. "Here? Right here? But someone could walk by or hear us." 

"We'll be quiet." He whispered as he leaned in and kissed her neck. "Say you want to lie with me… here… now…" He said in her ear. 

"Why?" She said coy. 

"Because I want to hear you say it." He said as he kissed under her jaw. 

"Men really do like that kind of thing?" She asked as she kissed his neck. "I thought it was only in the book." 

"Right, no man would never want their partner to be so overcome with passion for them that they would tell them so." He said between kisses. 

"I don't think I qualify for overcome with passion." She said breathless. 

"Oh, yes you do. You're overcome, trust me." He said as he pulled back and looked at her. "Come on. Say it. Tell me you want me, that you want to lie with me here." She looked at him, her mouth moving but she stayed quiet. 

"Why is that so hard for you to say? Why won't you admit it, that you want this with me?" Again he looked at her but she didn't reply, only looked to the ground. "Well, I guess if you won't say it then you don't want to." He let go of her and turned away. 

"You're not leaving?" She said surprised. "You're bluffing." 

"Am I?" He said. "I guess we'll see." He started to walk away. 

"Why is it so important that I give in?" She said. 

He turned back around. "Why it is so important that you don't? It is only us, no one else can hear or will ever know. Why can't you admit that you're aroused and want me?" 

"You already know that. Why should I say it?" She said. 

"Because I asked. Because I want you to. I want to hear you say it." He said. "The real question is why won't you. Is it so difficult for you to admit that you aren't completely in control at all times? That you can be affected by emotion or passion, or want anything past the point of reason? Can you simply not admit that you can be so affected by another, that someone else can have influence over you?" He waited and then turned and again starting walking to camp. 

She was right in that he was bluffing. He had no intention of returning to camp without lying with her. Another step and he'd stop and turn back around. He knew it was her pride, her ingrained independence and her desire to be in control of herself and any situation she found herself in that was stopping her from saying that to him. 

It was true that he knew she was aroused and wanted to lie with him here, that she loved him and desired him in general. It wasn't like he was trying to embarrass or humiliate her, but it would be nice if she… 

"All right. Stop. Come back. Please." She said. 

…would give in and tell him so. He bit back a smile, turned around and took a few steps towards her. "Yes?" 

She looked up and around and then took a deep breath and looked back to him. "I… I do want you… here… now… Watching you practice… did get me… excited and… maybe even a little… aroused. In fact… if I'm being honest… which I guess is the point… I'm about ready to rip your breeches and small clothes off and just take you!" 

He looked thoughtful and then smiled. "That will do." He rushed over to her, picking her up in his arms, cradling and carrying her over to a soft mossy spot. As he laid her down, they started pulling her armor off. He looked over her body bathed in the moonlight. Then he kissed her lips, down her neck, over her chest, stomach, and her hip and then down her thigh. He moved to the inside of her thigh, kissing it and slowly making his way up her leg. 

"What are you…" She said. 

"Shh…have to be quiet remember." He whispered and continued kissing her. 

Her back arched, as her head rolled back and her eyes closed. "Oh Maker!" 

Chapter 54: Twenty-Second Camp 

54.1 Jowan 

Jowan settled in to a comfortable spot. Kathryn, Alistair, Morrigan and Zevran had left hours ago to deal with the carta. The ones left at camp used the time to practice or study, clean and hone weapons, make arrows, chop firewood, hunt and gather food, make potions. He had had no idea how much work was involved in keeping a group like this going. He figured if you weren't fighting you'd be laying around staring at the fire all the time. 

He had been out gathering herbs and food with Leliana all morning and then making potions. He was getting much better at it. Then there had been study. There was so much studying that went with being a healer, all about organs and bones, muscles and tissues, nerves and… blood. But he found it all fascinating. He could only do basic healing but he had learned all the spells associated with spirit healing. Now he just had to find a spirit that was willing to help him. 

There didn't seem to be any fundamental difference between demons and spirits. Just whether they embodied virtues as opposed to vices which determined if they were benevolent or… not. There were five known types of such spirits: compassion, valor, justice, faith and hope. For spirit healers it was most common to connect with a spirit of compassion. 

The tome he had said that the best way to contact a spirit was for the mage to send their mind into the Fade with the intention of making contact to allow the spirit to see them. If one did make contact with the mage, then they could ask the spirit for help and see if it chooses to help them. Some people walk the Fade for years before contact is made, others seem to be picked by the spirits, others never have a spirit choose them, and even if a mage is chosen the tome said that the spirit may require that the mage prove their good intentions. The tome never said how one would know the spirit needs proof or how one would go about proving such intentions to a spirit since spirits do not 'talk' to people the way that demons do. 

Speaking of demons, he felt many of them during his travels in the Fade but none had approached him. He had feared that they would but they all kept a distance from him. He wondered if it could be that since he was already a blood mage, they knew that they had nothing to offer him or perhaps they knew he had defeated a demon and did not wish a confrontation. Whatever the reason he was glad to walk the Fade unmolested. While in the Circle, he had felt as though he was walking through quicksand each time he tried to travel the Fade, but now it was easier. With blood magic he would be able to find the minds of sleepers, even look into their dreams but he had no desire to do that. Those were private and he really didn't want to think about anyone looking into his dreams, especially lately. 

The Fade had its own beauty to it, its own peace and calm about it but as beautiful as the Fade was, he preferred the real world. He could see why demons and even spirits wanted a glimpse of this world, a taste of life and were willing to give great power to get it. 

He came back to his body but left the connection to the Fade open. He looked around camp. It was nice here in the mountains, peaceful and calm. He saw Sigrun looking at the snowflakes as they fell. Leliana was singing to herself. Wynne was knitting a scarf or hood. 

All in all, the group was a good place with good people, and he was beginning to feel welcome here. At first they had all been suspicious and wary of him but he was becoming accepted. As he discovered more about everyone he saw that none of them were perfect, all had pasts and regrets. He was glad to have been given a chance to help them. It wasn't even about making amends anymore. All that concerned him was if he could help. If he… he… he suddenly felt like someone was there with him. As though something, like a mouse or bird, was sitting on his shoulder. There was a sense of wonder that wasn't his, a curiosity about things he knew well. It was an oddly comforting feeling. Then it was gone. 

"Wynne!" Kathryn's voice rang out over the camp as the group entered. Wynne put down her knitting and walked towards them. Jowan stood and followed. Everyone looked fine but Zevran was holding his forearm. 

Wynne looked at his arm. "What happened?" 

"We were attacked by four ogres." Zevran said. "The others managed to kill one but were all knocked out while I was left alone to defend them from the other three. I managed to kill two but sustained this injury but I continued to fight and heroically defeated the last. Thereby saving my companions and the world at large." 

"He tripped on part of the broken floor." Alistair said. 

"I will not forget this... betrayal." He said to Alistair and then turned back to Wynne. "Such shoddy construction! Then to leave pieces of stone around for unsuspecting people to trip on, neglectful. I should make a claim against the city for damages." 

"To your arm or your pride." Kathryn said. 

"I liked my version of events better." Zevran said. 

Wynne shook her head and examined his arm. "Only a minor break." She said. 

"You only say it is 'minor' because it is not your arm that is broken." Zevran said. 

Wynne smiled. "I can heal it and then will wrap it for you. Should be good as new in a couple days." 

"Ah… umm… Can I try?" Jowan said. "To heal it, I mean. I think I might be able to." 

Wynne looked surprised. "Well, if you think you might be able to. It is simple, clean break." 

"As long as you don't mind." Jowan said to Zevran. 

Zevran shrugged. "I do not mind, as long as it is healed." 

Jowan took Zevran's arm and gently felt along the bone. He took a deep breath. He connected to the Fade and just there was the presence he had felt earlier. He concentrated on the broken bone and 'asked' for the power to heal it. Nothing happened, but he could sense the presence come closer. He waited and then 'asked' again and this time he could feel the power begin to flow through him. It was just a small trickle at first but then grew. White light came from his fingers, he focused on the injury directing the power as it flowed into Zevran's arm. He had seen Wynne heal such injuries in moments, but this took time. Finally, he felt along the bone and it felt whole. He could sense the spirit looking over the healed arm with approval. He 'thanked' the spirit for its help and it withdrew back into the Fade. 

"I think I did it." He said to Wynne. She put her hand over Zevran's arm. 

"How does that feel?" Wynne asked Zevran. 

"Good." Zevran said. "A bit sore but the pain is gone." 

Wynne moved her hand over his arm. "It is healed completely." She said and then smiled at Jowan. "Very good, Jowan. Congratulations." 

54.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn was looking over the maps of the deep roads that Bhelen had given them. He had also given them all the supplies they would need for a trip that may last a couple of weeks. They would prepare tomorrow and then set out to see if they could find the Paragon Branka. 

Kathryn also wanted to make sure that they talked to Oghren, Branka's husband before they left. They had seen him after meeting Bhelen for the first time and had spoken briefly to him at the tavern but at the time Branka was not a concern. If anyone would have the missing piece that would allow them to find her, it would have to be Oghren. No doubt he would be at the tavern. 

She looked to see where Alistair and Leliana were teaching Jowan to play the king's game. The rest were watching, even Sten who was pretending not to. 

Jowan had been able to heal Zevran's broken arm. It was quite an achievement and they had opened one of their few good bottles of wine in celebration. She had spoken to Wynne earlier in the evening. Wynne had been concerned that as a blood mage, he may never gain the help of a spirit. 

Wynne admitted that she had been reluctant to teach him healing magic, not only because of him being a blood mage but because he was not a strong mage. Healing is a hard discipline to learn and if done incorrectly or even carelessly it can do more harm than good. But what he lacked in talent, he was making up for in dedication. He had taken to the study of healing and had been practicing diligently. 

After Leliana's injury, Wynne had been more receptive to his ideas about using blood magic for healing and now she had to admit that some of them showed a great deal of promise. She was preaching caution and watching closely for any signs of the corruption blood mages are known for but so far there were no such indications. 

Kathryn put the maps away just as Zevran entered the camp. He smiled to her and she nodded back. Then quietly she slipped out of camp. 

54.3 Zevran 

Zevran made his way back to the fire. Most everyone was watching Alistair and Leliana teaching Jowan to play the king's game. He looked around and saw Sigrun. 

The little dwarf was the personification of perky and had a great sense of humor and was not at all bad looking. He walked over to where she was sitting and sat down just within conversation range. 

"If you do not mind me asking, but you are or were casteless, yes? The tattoo on your face, that is what that means." Zevran said. 

"Yes, I was thinking about getting one of the symbol of the Legion." She said. “Just to cover up the casteless tattoo." 

"I have seen the symbol of the Legion… I would not recommend such a tattoo." Zevran said. 

"Why not? You have a tattoo on your face." She said. 

"Very true, in fact, I have tattoos many places on my person but I believe that tattoo should enhance the features of the face, accentuate the line of the body… it's curves and musculature and not cover it up." He said. 

"While you are part of the Legion you are still Sigrun and should not cover your face entirely. You are still you, yes?" Sigrun looked thoughtful. "Besides few on the surface know what the tattoo means and less care, to most it is little more than decoration." 

"They don’t care, but don't humans have nobility and commoners too?" She asked. 

"Oh, yes but it is not exactly the same. Even the lowest of the humans have the ability to improve their situation to some extent. Take that fine man there." He said indicating Alistair. "In human culture he is most worthless." 

"Why?" She asked. 

"He is a bastard." He said. 

"What does that mean?" She asked. 

"Hmm… how do I explain? Being casteless depends on one's gender and caste of their parents, yes?" He said. "Well, in human culture one way a person is deemed worthless if their parents are not married at the time of their birth, even if both parents are nobility. Now that can be negated if the father claims them as his children. His father did not, and despite the fact that his father lived till only a few years ago. He grew up an orphan." 

"Oh, I didn't know. How sad." She said. "But he is a warrior now." 

"Yes, he has improved his standing by hard work, that appears to be the main difference between human and dwarven society." He said. 

"So, that's why many casteless go to the surface." She said. 

"Indeed, in human society what you were in Orzamar means nothing to them." He said. "Even many humans care little for the class distinctions and judge worth based upon character and actions. Take our good Kathryn, she is a noble of the highest order. But does she stick up her nose at those of us who are not, those who are elves or mages or outcasts, no. In fact she shares a bed with the bastard, most extraordinary." 

"You mean her and Alistair are…" She said. 

"Yes, and quite often." He said. 

"Oh, probably made me asking if most human men were as good looking as him a bit awkward." She said. 

"You think him good looking, do you?" He said. 

"Yes, for a human. If he was a dwarf probably not so much. Like you are handsome for an elf but I don't think you'd make a good dwarf. Your features are too thin. You might make a attractive human though." She said. 

"Good to know." He said and smiled. 

"I think I'm going to like the surface." She said. 

"Of that I am glad to hear." He said. 

Zevran looked up to the moon and then excused himself. He walked over to where Alistair was putting away the king's game set. "My friend, Kathryn went to check on something a while ago but she has not returned. I would check on her myself but with my arm, I am not allowed such exertions." 

"Oh." Alistair said with concern. "Do you know where she went?" 

54.4 Alistair 

"Kathryn!" Alistair called out. "Where are you?" 

"Here. Over here." Kathryn called out. Alistair turned and took another few steps and stepped into a small clearing. "Are you…" Then he smiled as he looked over it. There was a small fire going, a bed roll laid out, wine and glasses, cheese and apples. "What's all this?" He said. 

"Well, I figure we won't have much chance to be alone in the deep roads, so do something a little special tonight." Kathryn said from somewhere. 

"An excellent idea." He said with a large smile. 

"I'll be right there. Why don't you pour the wine?" She said. Alistair looked around but it was hard to place exactly where her voice was coming from. He poured the wine, took a couple bites of the cheese and apples. 

"Oh, did I tell you that when we were in Denerim, I found a book at the Wonders of Thedas about sprites and nymphs?" She said. 

Alistair grimaced as though in sharp pain. "Really?" He said trying not to sound concerned. 

"Yes, it was very interesting. It said that wood sprites take the form of beautiful women wearing only leaves or spider webs. They entice men to follow them to an isolated spot and once they have them separated from the rest, they attack them." She said. 

Alistair considered and looked over the small isolated clearing. "I did mention that I was over that, right?" 

"Then once they overtake them, they strip the man naked, tie them to a tree or bind them to the ground. Then they proceed to lie with them, over and over, sometimes several sprites, one after another, again and again, to steal their seed and beget more sprites, using them till they die from exhaustion." She said. 

"Yes, I knew that but by then I'd have been rescued by a beautiful… I mean… I was young and… the Chantry tells you that you shouldn't do that, especially as a templar." He said. "They are really good at making you feel guilty. The sisters were experts at it. You even felt guilty just thinking about it. So I just figured if forced to do that then the Maker couldn't be upset about it, which helped relieve the guilt." 

He swallowed hard and then said. "I did say on more than one occasion that I was completely over that and… I am… completely… and really I would rather not. I… I wasn't kidding about that, you know… I would rather… not." 

"Then there was the section on water nymphs." She said. Her voice moving around the edge of the clearing. 

"You do understand I was joking about that, right?" He said turning around towards her voice. "I never even thought about…well, maybe I did… but only a couple times… and a long time ago." 

"They also take the form of beautiful women, but they appear next to pools, lakes and streams, wearing nothing but water, apparently. They try to temp the man to lie with them by offering to fulfill their every desire but once they join with them, they pull them into the water and force them to lie with them till they tire of them and drown them." She said. 

"You know, those were just fantasies from before I met you. I mean… not that I fantasize about you! I mean I do… now, but I didn't before we… were together. Well, maybe… a few times, I did." He said rubbing the back of his neck. "It wasn't anything… bad. I mean… it was all… I guess 'innocent' isn't the right word." 

"So, you fantasized about me before we were together?" She asked. 

"Yes." Alistair admitted. 

"Really? What did you fantasize about?" She asked. 

"Well, I…" He sighed. "Honestly, just that you wanted us to be together, how it would be to hold you and kiss you, and… well… how you'd look in your small clothes." 

"Oh, I see." Kathryn said. "Then I guess it is a good thing I bought this instead of the wood sprite outfit." Alistair turned back around toward her voice. This time she was standing by the edge of the clearing, wearing… something he had no idea even existed. It was like a corset but without shoulder straps and small clothes that were small… very, very small, both made of black silk and lace. 

All he could do was stare. She stepped into the clearing. He could see the moonlight reflect off her skin, which was wet and glistening. Wow. He had really thought when he read about… throbbing that they were exaggerating. 

Apparently not. 

She stepped closer to him. "I figure that tonight I can give you some other things to fantasize about and make you forget all about the wood sprites." 

His eyes traced down the lines of her body and then back up. He took a deep breath and smiled. "What wood sprites?" 

Chapter 55: Orzammar Part III 

55.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn, Alistair and Sten made their way through the market to the entrance to the deep roads. They had stopped by the palace to pick up supplies and then by the tavern to see if Oghren was there. Cora had told them he had run out of their nearly an hour ago and didn't know where he was going. Jowan and Sigrun were picking up a few last minute items. The three stopped by the door to the Diamond quarter to wait on them. 

"All the darkspawn are fleeing the underground, and we are going there." Sten said. 

Kathryn bit back the words that threatened to pour out of her. They needed another warrior in the deep roads. Just let it go, she told herself. He is just being… an ass. But the one thing she simply could not stand were people complaining or criticizing without offering suggestions or alternatives. It was a waste of time and energy, and not at all productive. She'd had nearly enough of his complaining and willful misunderstanding, and his disdainful attitude… it was going to take all of her self-control to keep quiet. No, it was going to take more self control than she had. 

"Sten," She said. She could see Alistair react to the tone in her voice. "You know why we are doing this, why we have done all of the things we have done. Everything has been set to the one purpose of stopping the Blight. Yet, given the importance of the mission, you have continuously criticized without offering any helpful suggestions, but simply restated tired observations which are not welcome." 

"You criticize not having a plan for defeating the Blight, for reaching the archdemon through the hoard the darkspawn that surround it but then when we have a plan to recruit allies specially for that end, you criticize not going directly after the archdemon. If you simply wish to kill darkspawn, there are enough but that in and of itself does not get us any closer to our goal of stopping the Blight. Do you really expect me to believe you are so mentally impaired as to not understand this?" She asked. "If you simply wish to complain, which seems to be the case, do so at a time or place or volume that you will not annoy others." 

"But before you do so, recall that you were rotting in a cage in Lothering, then released into my custody to assist us in the defeat of the Blight and at this moment you are failing." She said. "Go back to camp. Now." Sten set down his pack and walked away. 

Alistair walked up to her. "Don't start." She said. 

"After that lashing, I'm afraid to." He said. 

She took a deep breath. "I know I should have just let it go, but I can't stand the pointless criticizing. I mean does he or anyone really think that I do not know all of that? Perhaps this isn't a good idea, perhaps none of them are, perhaps this plan is doomed to fail but it is the best one and unless someone has another, I don't want to hear it." She sighed. "I know it puts us a warrior short and we need him if we are going into the deep roads, and I shouldn't have told him to go back to camp, but I just wanted him away. I know I shouldn't have done it." 

"We'll be fine." Alistair said. "As long as you are beside me I'd assault the Black City itself with the archdemon guarding the gate." She smiled. He reached up touched her face and wrapped his hand around her head and pulled it towards his shoulder. She resisted. "Jowan and Sigrun are getting supplies. No one is here but a bunch of dwarfs that we don't even know their names and we are well above their eye level. So, come here." She let him pull her to him, resting her head on his shoulder. It felt good. 

"There they are." He said as he withdrew his hand from her neck. "If you want I can pretend to have been looking at the armor over there, that way they won't suspect anything." He said only half joking. 

She took his hand and brought it to her lips. "You know what?" She said and then kissed his fingers. "I don't care." She touched his lips with her fingers and then leaned forward and kissed him. 

"Look at those two." Sigrun said loud enough for them to hear. "It is simply disgraceful how some people behave in public." 

"You would think that they could get a room or something." Jowan said trying his best to sound jovial. 

Kathryn and Alistair stopped kissing. "I think someone is talking to us, or about us." She said. 

"You would think they could tell we were busy." Alistair said. "People are so rude." 

Kathryn turned to the others. "Did you get the supplies you needed?" 

"Yes." Jowan said. 

"And I got a crossbow! I always wanted one. Jowan said that it would be okay. It is, right?" Sigrun said. 

"Of course." Kathryn said. "As long as it isn't the most expensive one or anything." 

"No, it's just the base model, see." Sigrun took out the crossbow and showed it to them. 

Alistair took it and looked it over. "Nice, solid, be a good one to start with." 

"The merchant said it would be a good one to learn on and then I could upgrade it or get a nicer one as I got better with it. Once Jowan told him we were with the Grey Wardens he was really nice. He even threw in some fire bolts." She said. 

"Just be careful where you point it, preferable not at any of us." Alistair said as he handed it back to her. 

"I will… be careful, I mean." She said. 

"Are you worried about her aim?" Kathryn said to Alistair. 

"I'm more worried about… her height." He said. Kathryn had to smile. 

Everything having been done they headed towards the entrance to the deep roads. 

55.2 Oghren 

Oghren watched and waited. Any time now, they would be here soon, had to be. There was no other way into the deep roads. If that's where they were going they would have to come through here. 

He had gotten the message as soon as they had entered Orzamar. He still had a few friends left, ones that remembered, ones that owed him their lives. They kept him informed. Bhelen was looking for Branka, he knew that. But while he had discovered something, whatever it was, it wasn't enough to find her. The Wardens had agreed to look for her and if they put what they knew with what he knew, they might actually stand a chance of finding her. 

He was nervous, twitchy. He had waited all this time for something and now to have it be so close. This was the first real break, the first hope he'd had in months. 

He had searched and searched, walked miles of the roads and found nothing. He had been everywhere he knew of, everywhere that he had ever heard of looking for some clue to where she was and found nothing, more nothing and still more nothing. How could she and the whole sodding house just disappear? By all the ancestors you would think they would have had to have left a trail as wide as a bronto's ass, something to show where they had gone. 

He knew where she was going but not how to get there. No one did. No one had been there in over five hundred years. But maybe Bhelen with his money and squads searching for months, covering miles of roads long forgotten, had found the missing piece. 

He didn't like the waiting, at least not sober. It gave him time to think and he didn't want to think, he wanted to find her, find where she went, and bring her back home. 

He should have seen this coming. He knew what she was after, he just didn't think that she'd actually try to find it. That she would actually be stupid enough to go searching for it. And that when she did she would leave him behind. 

She had always been fascinated by the anvil. She read all she could about it, spent hours in the Shaperate researching it, but he didn't take it seriously. It was long gone, lost, destroyed by darkspawn or rusted away by the centuries. But she wouldn't let go. She was like that, even in the early days, that focus, that single minded determination is what first attracted him to her. She was good enough looking but it was when she talked about forging that she shined. You get her started and her eyes would light up, burn with that intensity. She would talk so fast you could barely keep up. She was brilliant. He loved listening to her talk even if he didn't understand all the technical stuff, just watching her talk was enough. 

She'd get so excited about her ideas, the things she wanted to try, the stuff she could make, the things she wanted to do. Her mother had died of black lung and she wanted to do something about it. She attacked it with passion, trying everything, failure after failure and still she kept at it, till she found it. 

But then something changed, with the fuel problem solved there was just the anvil. She was obsessive, yes. It's what made her such a good smith, but it was more than that. She had always been a little nuts, but she was a genius and everyone knows they are a bit off, it made her interesting, but then it got worse. She would accuse him of moving things on her, that he was trying to stop her. He never did but maybe he should have. She got more and more engrossed with the anvil, focusing on that to the exclusion of nearly all else, even him. 

But the maps, that's what should have tipped him off that she was serious. He thought, or maybe he had hoped, it would be a passing thing, that she would realize like she always had that it was impossible to find and give up. 

Sod it! He should have stayed home. He should have refused that last trip to the deep roads. He should have stayed and watched her, but she had stopped talking about it. He thought she had finally given up, but he should have known. Maybe... he did. Maybe… he was losing her and he didn't know what to do. So he... so he ignored it like a coward! Too afraid to face it, to confront her, to stop her. Too afraid to admit that he could lose her, perhaps more afraid to admit that maybe he already had. 

When he got back, they were all gone. He was told that she had left with everyone. He searched the house, tore through everything, for something to indicate where she had gone but nothing. All the maps, notes, everything was gone. And there was no note for him, no explanation, no good bye, no... nothing. 

Maybe he couldn't have stopped her, maybe there was really nothing he could have done but at least he could have tried. He could have fought for her, then if he had failed at least he could live with that, but he had done nothing. 

Perhaps that was why he was so willing to risk his life looking for her, to try and quiet that voice in his head that whispered that this was his fault, that he had allowed her to go out of fear, that he could have stopped her but didn't. But no, that would never stop, even if he found her or whatever was left of her, he would always blame himself. 

He looked up to see a group heading towards the mine entrance. Three humans and a dwarf, not a bad looking one either. He remembered the female human from the tavern. This was it. 

55.3 Sigrun 

The group stopped to rest and get some food and drink. Sigrun walked over to Alistair. 

"Here's your dagger back." Sigrun said as she handed the small knife to him. 

"Oh, thanks… did I drop this?" He said. 

"Oh, no. I nicked it from your belt. Old habits die hard, you know." She said. 

"You stole this from me. That's… wrong." He said. 

"Only if you get caught. And need I remind you that I wasn't caught?" She said. 

"Rogues!" He said replacing the knife. 

"Oh and here's your ring back too… but this isn't a man's ring… it's a woman's. Oh! There's an inscription. I can even read it. My friend Varlan taught me. '…love… you, al… ways…" He grabbed the ring from her. 

"You shouldn't take things from people! And especially not those you fight with and those you have to trust with your life. Well, maybe that doesn't mean much to you, but… how is anyone supposed to trust you in combat if they can't trust you to not rob them blind the first chance you get? We have money to buy things, there is no need to steal what little each of us have from us." He said. 

Kathryn walked over. "Is everything all right?" 

"Yes, she just… yes, it's fine." He said and then walked away. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" Sigrun said. She walked after him. 

"Alistair, I'm sorry. I... I wasn't going to keep it. I did give it back." She said. 

"I know." He said and sighed. "Just don't do that anymore." 

"It's for her, isn't it? The ring?" She asked. 

"Yes." He said. 

"Why haven't you given it to her?" She asked. 

"It isn't the right time. We… haven't been together… it's just not the right time." He said. 

"You think she'll say no?" Sigrun said. 

"No, that's not it. I… I think she'll say yes which is why I'm not going to ask her now." He said. 

Sigrun looked confused. "Don't you want her to say yes?" 

"Of course, but things won't be like this forever. Things will change, a lot and when that happens, she might not want to. I… I don't want her to be in a situation she doesn't want to be in. I want her to be sure and make that decision when we know how things will be and she's sure that's… I'm… what she wants." He said. 

"But if something happened to you, she'll never know you were going to ask." Sigrun said. 

"If something did happen, she'd find the ring…" Alistair said. 

"…in your pocket. That's why you were so upset I nicked it. I'm sorry." She said. "You love her a lot, don't you?" 

"More than anything." He said. 

Sigrun walked back to where Jowan was eating. Oghren walked up. "So, what's the deal with them?" Oghren asked indicating Alistair and Kathryn. 

"Other than they are together and share a tent in camp, I really don't know much." Jowan said. 

"Zevran was telling me all about it." Sigrun said excited. "Great story, all kinds of drama and romance and angst. A noble lady in love with a knight in her father's service. They stole looks and kisses but it ended when her parents found out. So years later the castle is attacked, the knight stays behind to buy time for her to escape and is thought dead. Weeks later, they find each other again among the refugees fleeing the ravages of the blight, now finally able to be together. So romantic!" 

"Very." Jowan said disappointed. "How could anyone compete with that?" 

"Well, that was the guy Alistair replaced." She said. 

"What?!" Jowan said. 

"Yep, her long lost love, a knight who risked certain death to help her escape and she ended that relationship to be with Alistair." She said. 

"Wow. I… had no idea." Jowan said. 

"Apparently the sex is great too." She said. "Although now that I think about it, I wonder how Zevran knows that." 

55.4 Kathryn 

Kathryn would be glad to leave the deep roads. She wanted some fresh air and to see the sky again, to see a tree or flower. And sleeping on the hard ground was preferable to sleeping on stone. She was tired, they all were. It was hard to rest down here, constantly on guard for darkspawn and with the taint seeming to infect the very air making it all heavy and depressing, keeping you on edge. 

They had accomplished what they had set out. Well, most of them. They had a crown to give to whoever they choose. Branka was dead and the anvil destroyed. Oghren was naturally upset but was dealing, she knew that part of him had to at least be relieved that at last, it was over. 

She had destroyed the anvil and while she knew it was the right thing to do, to give up the idea of having golems to fight the darkspawn, did give you pause. But whatever is necessary is not victory at all costs. But if they failed and defeat is annihilation… cold comfort that you have done the 'right' thing if you lose. Of course too late to think about such now. It was done. 

The trip back was quiet. They were all tired sure but seen a lot, lot of things to think about, Branka's insanity and what she had done in pursuit of the anvil, the cost in suffering of the golems, and then there were the… broodmothers. Even Sigrun had been quiet after their discovery. Hespith's rhyme still chilled her. While there were not many fates worse than death, that was most definitely one of them. Alistair had finally had to take her by the hand and lead her away. 

At the thought of him, she instinctively looked to him but he was not beside her. She turned around to see that he was several feet behind her stopped with his head bowed. She started walking back to him as he put his hand on his knees to support himself and seemed to be grimacing in pain. 

"Alistair? Are you all right?" She said. 

He looked up at her. He was pale and sweating. "No." He said. 

She grabbed him as his strength began to give, but with armor he weighed well over twenty-five stone and was too heavy for her to support. She felt Jowan take his other arm, however all they could do was keep him on his feet. 

"Wait." She heard Oghren say. He got behind him. "I got him. Back this way." Between them all they were able to lower him gently to the ground. 

They tried to lay him back but he was having trouble breathing. Kathryn sat next to him, allowing him to lean against her, his head resting on her shoulder. His skin was cool to the touch, his heart was pounding and he seemed to be in severe pain. 

"Where is the pain?" Jowan asked him as he flipped through the pages in his journal. 

"Stomach." He said with some effort. 

"Where specifically?" Jowan asked. 

"Not specifically… everywhere." He said. 

"Oh." He flipped to another a page. 

"What's your name?" Jowan asked him. 

"What are you doing?" Kathryn said. 

"Trust me." Jowan said. "What's your name?" 

"Alistair." 

"What year is it?" Jowan asked. 

"9:30… no, 31." He said. 

"Do you know where you are?" Jowan asked. 

"Umm… caverns… in the mountains." Kathryn looked concerned. Jowan looked at her. 

"Do you know what you're doing here?" Jowan asked. 

"The Urn… we need the urn… for the Arl." Alistair said. Kathryn flinched. 

"Do you know who I am?" Jowan asked. 

"Mage… in the dungeon…" Alistair said but it was taking more effort for him to talk. 

"Do you know who she is?" Jowan asked indicating Kathryn. 

"She's… my… my love." Alistair said. 

"Do you know her name?" Jowan said looking very concerned. 

"Yes… it's… umm…" Alistair looked confused. 

"Okay, this is important… did the pain start as bad as it is now or was it not so bad at first and then steadily got worse?" Jowan said. 

"Got worse." Alistair said. 

"He's bleeding internally." Jowan said. "Get his chestpiece off." 

"I got it." Kathryn said as she quickly unbuckled the chestpiece. "I'm getting good at getting men out of armor. Wow. That didn't sound good at all, did it?" 

Jowan pulled open Alistair's undershirt. "There has to be bruising or swelling." He looked over Alistair's abdomen but nothing seemed wrong. He started pressing on his stomach. "Is this sore or painful in any way?" 

Alistair shook his head. 

"Damn." Jowan said. 

"You can cure bleeding right?" Kathryn said. 

"Yes, yes… I can." Jowan took his journal and held it open to Kathryn. She looked to the line he was pointing to. It read. 'Internal bleeding can only be healed if the source of the bleeding can be located with great accuracy.' Kathryn's eyes widened. 

Jowan put the journal down and rubbed his forehead. Tense moments passed. Jowan looked to Kathryn. 'I'm thinking.' He mouthed to her. Then his eyes got big. He mouthed. 'I have an idea, but it's using blood magic and it's risky.' 

'Do it.' She mouthed back. 'But don't tell him.' 

Jowan nodded. "Alistair, I need to slow the bleeding down so the healing spell will work better. I'm just going to put you to sleep, all right? So, just relax." He took a deep breath and red light flared from his fingers. 

Alistair raised his head and looked at Kathryn. "I need to say something." 

"Don't. Just relax. Everything is going to be fine." She said. 

"Maybe… but… in case." He said. "All my life… I… I've searched for… somewhere I belonged… for… a home… and I found it… with you. I… I love you." His head fell forward. He placed it back on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. 

"And I love you. Just hold on. Don't you leave me. Not now, not ever." She said as she kissed his forehead. 

He closed his eyes. "Kathryn…" he whispered. "…your name is Kathryn." 

55.5 Alistair 

Alistair woke up, which given the circumstances was a very good sign, and there was no pain in his abdomen, which was another good sign. 

He opened his eyes. It was dark, very dark. As his eyes adjusted, he could tell he was in one of the small chambers they had discovered along the deep roads that contained tombs. The fact that he had been sleeping with the dead was rather creepy. 

"You're awake!" Sigrun said. "How do you feel?" 

"Good, so far." Alistair said. 

"Well, don't move. Jowan said that when you woke up to not let you get up till he checked you out, even if I had to sit on you. I'm sure he was kidding about that." Sigrun left and then quickly returned with a torch and Jowan. 

"Any pain?" Jowan said as he knelt down beside Alistair and placed a hand over his stomach. Jowan looked tired, really tired. Alistair guessed healing him had been trying. 

"No." Alistair said. A weak blue light came from Jowan's fingers, flowed into Alistair's side and then disappeared. 

"Here." Jowan handed Alistair a potion. "This is probably more than you need at this point but best to be safe, but you seem to be all right." He said with a great deal of relief. 

"Thanks to you." Alistair swallowed the potion. "Where's Kathryn?" He saw Jowan glance to Sigrun. Alistair had this horribly sick feeling. "Jowan?" 

"She's fine… now." Jowan said. "She's outside." 

Alistair stood slowly, forcing himself not to rush. He followed Jowan and Sigrun out of the crypt. 

It was bright, at least brighter than in the crypt. He looked around and saw Kathryn laying by one of the lava streams. For a moment, he thought she was dead. Her skin was pale, so very pale, her lips had a bluish tint to them. The only indication of life was her shallow and labored breathing. He turned to the others. "What happened?" 

"Now, son, just stay calm." Oghren said as he stepped forward. 

"What happened?!" Alistair said, his voice echoing along the stone. 

Jowan took a deep breath and started the speech he had been practicing. "A healer can only heal internal bleeding if the source of the bleeding can be identified. We couldn't do that with you. There was no bruising or swelling. The pain was general. You weren't coughing or vomiting blood. There was nothing to indicate where the bleeding was coming from. All I could think to do was to stop the bleeding temporarily and then put you in a coma using blood magic to sap most of your life force. That way your heart would slow and the bleeding would reduce enough so that a general healing spell would heal you, although it would take time, a lot of time. But it worked." 

"Wait, so you lied about what you were going to do to me… you used blood magic and didn't tell me! Did she… of course, she knew." He said. "But why is she…" 

"I thought that when I released you from the coma, you would come out of it yourself, but you didn't. You started slipping into a deeper one. You were dying and I didn't have enough power left to pull you out of it." Jowan said. "So…" 

Alistair's eyes widened and then closed as he ground his teeth. "You… you used her… life…" 

"Yes." Jowan said. 

"How could you do that to her?" Alistair asked. 

"She asked me to." Jowan said. 

"That's true, son." Oghren said. "He only did what she asked him." 

"She saved me from being executed." Jowan said. "What was I supposed to say? No?" 

"Is she going to be all right?" Alistair asked. 

"Yes, she's fine. She's just weak. She's even been awake." Jowan said. 

"Just tell me she wasn't in any danger." Alistair said. 

Jowan looked down. "Do you want me to tell you that or… do you want the truth?" 

"I think I've been lied to enough today." Alistair said. 

"There was a risk. A pretty big one." Jowan said. "The spell I had to use is meant to take all of a person's health, all at once. Not part of it and not slowly. It's like using a shovel to pick up a grain of sand… but it worked." 

Alistair shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. He walked over and sat down next to Kathryn, watching her sleep until she finally opened her eyes. 

"You're awake." She said weakly. 

"You lied to me." He said. "Or had Jowan lie to me." 

"Just a little." She said. "You weren't in any condition to be making those kind of decisions and we didn't have time to explain or debate it. Besides, even if you would have known would you have refused it?" 

"Not my point." He said. "You should have told me the truth, about the risks and the blood magic." 

"So you could what? Panic and make what Jowan was trying to do harder or maybe try to use your templar skills to stop it. I couldn't risk it." She said. "Don't you trust me to make those kind of decisions for you?" 

"If you are making them for me, then you are supposed to do what I want, not what you want me to do." He said. "And I definitely wouldn't have wanted you to risk your life like that." 

"He didn't know it would work out that way." She said. "You can't tell me saving your life isn't worth me being tired." 

"You're more than tired." He said. "Why didn't you let him take some from Oghren and Sigrun? Even a little would have helped." 

"They are dwarves, naturally resistant to magic, remember?" She said. "It would have taken more power to take from them… more power than he had left. Besides, you're my responsibility. If anyone risks anything for you it should be me." 

"Why? Because you're the leader and responsiblie for everyone." He said. 

"No, because you belong…" She said. "You know why." 

"You could have died." He said. "He was using a spell for something it wasn't intended, doing things he had never done before." 

"You WERE going to die!" She said. "We risk our lives for each other all the time. If the situation was reversed you would have done the same for me." 

"But you're more important." He said. 

"No, not now. You're the one we need to stop Loghain and have any chance of saving Ferelden from the blight, remember." She said. He stood up and started to pace. "You're angry. Why?" She said. 

"Because you are so… reckless!" He said. 

"Reckless?" She said surprised. 

"Yes, reckless. You go into everything thinking you can beat it and that everything will work out the way you want." He said. 

"I've been right so far." She said. 

"You've been lucky!" He said. "You try the riskiest thing there is, hoping for the best outcome and I will grant you, so far, you have won all those bets. But they are bets and just because you win a bet does not mean it was a good one to make." 

"And you want to only play it safe. There are times you have to take risks, calculated risks and try for something better than what you have." She said. 

"Except that you don't calculate. You see a small chance that it will work out and you gamble and one of these days your luck is going to run out. One day, you are going to be wrong and when you fail, everyone else is going to have to pick up the pieces. I mean, what would have happened if both of us would have died? Then there would be no one to stop the blight from destroying Ferelden." 

"Can we stop pretending that this has anything to do with the blight?" She said. 

"Fine." He said. "If you would have died, how would I live with that?" 

"How would I live with watching you die knowing there was a chance I could have saved you?" She said. "Yes, there was a risk but… it was less than many of the things I've gambled on." She said. "Alistair, this wasn't about you or what you wanted. This was my choice. This was about what I was willing to risk, what I would have to live with. It was my life at risk and not my death, but the life I would have afterwards. I was the one that would have to continue on, defeat the civil war and a blight alone and then… live the rest of my life without you. I mean you'd get off easy. You'd be dead." 

He turned and walked a few paces away. 

"So are you done being angry yet, because I'd really like to kiss you." She said. 

He smiled and turned back around "I can't stay angry at you, although that might be a record. It was a couple minutes at least." He said. 

"Too long as far as I'm concerned." She said. He walked over and sat down beside her, taking her in his arms. "How about you never nearly die and I'll never risk my life saving you." She said. 

"Fair enough." He said. 

55.6 Kathryn 

Despite the cold and the wind and the snow, Kathryn was glad to be in the open air again. Bhelen was king, and they had his promise of aid. The anvil had been destroyed. Branka was dead. The Legion was an ally. Ruck's mother had some peace. The Shaperate had the golem lists. And they had another new companion in Oghren. 

Things were going to be more interesting and entertaining with their new dwarven companions about, that's for sure. She closed her journal. 

She looked around the camp. They would hold up here or perhaps travel a bit farther down the mountain to a nearby village to wait out the snows. Everyone was talking and relaxed. There was laughter about. It was nice. 

Both Alistair and her had fully recovered from their injuries. She had been looking forward to spending some time alone with him now that they were back in camp, but all of a sudden, she was getting sleepy. She was sleepy… very sleepy… so very sleepy… eyelids were getting heavy… so very heavy… she could hardly keep them open. She was so tired. It would be nice to just lay her head down… here and… go to sleep. 

Chapter 56: Twenty-Third Camp 

56.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn stretched, rolled over and started to drift back to sleep. She reached for Alistair but he was not within arms' reach. She opened her eyes and saw that he was not in the tent. She wondered where he could be for she knew that he did not have watch tonight. Stranger still, his armor, weapons and pack were gone. And something else was wrong. It was too dark. There was no light from the fire. She put on her undershirt, leggings and boots, grabbed her daggers and stepped out of the tent. 

The fire was out. All the wood was ash or charred remains. It would take an entire day or perhaps more for the fire to burn itself out like that. She knelt down, held her hand over the ashes and then ran her fingers through them. They were cold. There was not a single ember left. 

She looked around but there was no one on watch. In fact, there were no signs of anyone at all. She looked back to where Morrigan kept a fire but it too was out. Bhoden's cart was gone. She walked over to the nearest tent and tentatively looked inside but it was empty. She checked each one in turn. They were all empty. 

The night was clear and cold. All was quiet and still. There was no sound, no wind, no movement. It was like the eerie calm before a storm. The only noise was her own footsteps. 

None of this made any sense. She was missing something, a clue or sign, some indication of what was going on, of what had happened. She looked over the camp again, but all was still, so very still. It was unsettling. Her heart beat louder and faster and she had to remind herself not to panic, at least not yet. 

Then she saw something, movement, back by Morrigan's fire. A shadow in the moonlight, moving slowly. It was barely perceivable but there. She cautiously started towards the back of the camp. As she got closer, she could see that it was not a shadow but a real being. It's form obscured by the darkness. She was nearly upon the being before it turned towards her. 

"Duncan!" She cried out. Her voice echoing in the stillness. "You're alive! But how?" He looked at her but didn't respond. "What's wrong? Duncan, what is it? What's going on?" 

He bowed his head and sighed. He seemed tired and sad. "I am sorry, Kathryn." He said. He peered over her shoulder back towards the tents. She followed his gaze and turned around, but she didn't see anything. There was the camp, the tents and the remnants of the fire, quiet and still, as they had been. 

Then, just there and then again over there, the shadows moved. At first it was just a flicker, but then they began to creep along the ground, undulating, swelling and surging forward. They began to take shape and become solid forms. They came out of the tents, appeared in every shadow, crawled up from the ground. Then she realized they were not shadows… but darkspawn. 

One after another emerged from the darkness. They gathered together and started towards them. She turned back to Duncan. "Darkspawn! We have to…" but then she realized he already knew. As he stepped into the moonlight, she could see that his face was sickly, bruised and blotchy. His eyes hollow and empty. He had lured her back here, into a trap. 

He lunged towards her. She dodged, avoiding his grasp. She spun around, daggers flashing and stabbed him in the heart. He fell lifeless to the ground. She starting running towards the entrance to the camp which was also the only escape. She fought her way through them, but there were so many, and every moment more emerged from the shadows. 

She was grabbed from behind by a hurlock alpha. The force of the attack and weight of the alpha drove her to the ground and held her there. Her daggers were wrenched away from her. She held her breath and waited for the killing blow but it didn't come. She was picked up, turned over and thrown back down onto the ground. She was surrounded. Hands, many hands from those around her and more from the ground held her. She struggled but there were too many and they were too strong. 

She looked around at the dozens of darkspawn watching her. They didn't attack her, in fact, none of them even had weapons. They just stood there. She realized that they had not tried to hurt her as she had attempted to escape but only stop her, grab her, catch her. But why… if they didn't want to kill her… 

Fear… true cold terror griped her heart with its icy fingers. A memory… one she could not forget… one she had tried to forget… the rhyme… Hespith's rhyme… now she understood… she understood everything. 

'First day, they come and catch everyone.' 

That's what had happened to the rest. They had all been captured or killed by the darkspawn. They were all gone, including Alistair. But she had known that already, known that he would never leave her of his own volition. "Alistair, my love." She whispered. "Dear Maker, if he is not free from them, if he did not escape, please I beg you… let him be dead… let it have been quick… let it have been fighting as a warrior's death should be, but please let them not have hurt him. Please." 

'Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn.' 

They had come back for her. They had saved her for last. Why? Because they wanted to turn her… turn her into one of those… No. No! She would not allow that to happen. She would fight. She would resist. She would force them to kill her. She watched the alpha approach her. It was laughing. 

'Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew.' 

No! They cannot force her to do that. She would not let them. She would not! She told herself over and over, but she was wrong. Hands, so many hands, held her head and neck, forcing her mouth open, filling it with the taint. 

It burned, scorched her mouth and tongue, burning her skin as it spilled over her face and neck. The alpha held her mouth and nose closed. She struggled but it made little difference. She resisted but as the soft blackness started to overtake her, her body's instinct to survive became too strong. 

She could feel it as it scorched her throat and stomach, as it spread through her abdomen and then throughout her body, carried through her blood, like fire or lightening, burning all it touched. The pain was excruciating. Over and over, she was forced to take in the poison, as the pain worsened and spread to every part of her. Her tears streamed down her face. The salt burning her inflamed skin. 

She had tried to focus on something… anything. She had tried to concentrate… tried to think… but the pain was too much… every fiber of her body burned. 

All was quiet and still but far in the distance there was a noise… soft like music but not… more like bells or chimes… the sound of water flowing… of the gentle rain. All peace, all comfort, all joy and serenity was contained in the music. 

She tried to listen, wanting to hear, to know something other than the pain but no, not that… that was the call. That was the archdemon calling to her. She would not listen. That sound was death… sweet, peaceful death… but death. She would not give up. She would not give in. She would fight. 

She heard the sound of cloth ripping. The only sound in the stillness. She felt the cold air against her skin as her undershirt, leggings and then small clothes were torn away. 

'Eighth day, we hated as she is violated.' 

She watched as they gathered around her. She could hear them breathing… growling… laughing. Hands grabbed her legs… fingers pierced her flesh… blood dripped from the wounds… as they pulled and moved them. She tried to resist… but they were too many… and they were too strong. 

She would resist. She would not scream. She would hold on. She would not listen to the call. She saw the alpha kneel beside her. She closed her eyes and waited. 

Then she began to scream. 

56.2 Alistair 

Alistair finished his brandy. He had been talking to Zevran about what Zevran intended to do with himself after this was over. Zevran said he might stay in Ferelden since Alistair as king may have people he needed killed, which was probably true. It was an interesting idea to say the least but he was getting a bit ahead of himself. 

He also noticed that Zevran was still watching Sigrun who was fending off the advances of Oghren with a mixture of disgust and… more disgust. Everyone was huddled close to the fire. It was cold to be sure but the wind was low and next to the fire, it was pleasant. All were talking and even laughing and there was far too little of that. 

He looked over at Kathryn who was nodding off. That was odd for her. She was normally the last one to sleep. He had never seen her retire this early but then again perhaps she wasn't as recovered from the deep roads as he had thought. 

He watched as she slept but it wasn't a peaceful sleep. Then suddenly she began thrashing about. Alistair ran over to her. He wanted to stop her before she hurt herself. He realized that she wasn't lashing out wildly but fighting. He knew her moves, maybe better than she did and he waited, spin, dodge, thrust… he grabbed her and pinned her to the ground. He started calling her name, over and over but she didn't respond at all. 

"What's wrong?" Leliana asked. 

"I don't know!" Alistair said. "Grey Wardens have dreams, nightmares, violent, terrifying ones at times, but I've never seen anything like this. She's fighting something." 

"'Tis possible 'tis a spell." Morrigan said. "There is such that if cast upon a sleeping person brings horrifying nightmares." Alistair cleansed the area, but she didn't wake up. "'Twas a thought." Morrigan said disappointed. 

"No, it was a spell." Alistair said. "I felt it, but it's too strong for me to dispel." Kathryn stopped fighting, but within moments she started gasping for air and moaning in intense pain. 

"If it's a spell, someone cast it and they have to be close." Alistair said. He stood and closed his eyes. A moment passed, he looked up and ran out of the camp. Zevran immediately started after him. 

"Wait up!" Oghren said as he grabbed his battleaxe and followed. 

Alistair ran blindly, following his templar ability to sense magic. He had to find who or what was doing this to Kathryn but he had to be careful. If she was under the influence of some kind of spell, killing whatever was responsible might be the worst thing he could do. 

He could tell he was getting close. He ran into a clearing and instinctively dove for the ground. A fireball passed over his head, hitting the tree behind him. He charged in the direction the fireball came from. He felt the icy blast but shrugged it off. He bashed the mage and saw that he was tainted. 

He sensed magic off to his side. He turned to see another tainted mage but didn't have time to brace for the impact. The force knocked him back. The mage began to cast again but then an arrow pierced his shoulder. Oghren charged the first mage as he got to his feet. Alistair turned to see a third mage appear behind Zevran. 

"Down!" He yelled. Zevran dove for the ground. Alistair smited the mage. Zevran rolled onto his back and began to fire. He got to his feet, pulled out his daggers and charged. 

Oghren took three swings at the mage driving him back. The mage cast but the spell had no more effect on Oghren than a strong gust of wind. He took another swing and the mage fell. 

Alistair turned back to the second mage. He could tell he was the strongest of the group, probably the leader. He charged him. He sensed the blood magic and then the pain shot through him. It was a powerful spell but he pushed through knocking him to the ground. Alistair grabbed the mage by the throat. 

"Let her go." Alistair said. 

The mage smiled. "Too late." He hissed. "Trapped… forever." 

Alistair could see the insanity. He wasn't sure if it was the blood magic or the taint, though it didn't matter. Either way he was unable to help them. He ran him through. He could see the relief in the mage's eyes and some measure of his humanity return. "Tell her… so… sor… ry…" 

Alistair turned back to see Zevran and Oghren standing over the bodies of the other mages. "Thanks." 

"Do not mention it, my friend." Zevran said. Oghren smiled and shrugged. 

"But do either of you know how to get back to camp?" Alistair said. Then they heard the screaming. 

They followed the cries. Alistair knelt beside Kathryn who was in obvious and intense pain. 

"What happened?" He said. 

Wynne shook her head. "She was as you left her until moments ago when she started screaming. We've tried everything we can think of to wake her. Did you find the mage?" 

"He's dead." Alistair said. 

"But…" Wynne said. 

"He was corrupted and couldn't help us. He must have been sent to… hurt her." Alistair said. 

"Did he say anything?" Wynne asked. 

"I said to let her go. He said 'too late' and 'trapped forever'." Alistair said. 

"But how?" Wynne said. 

"Blood magic." Jowan said. "The mage, he was a blood mage, right?" 

"Yes, how did you…" Alistair said. 

"With blood magic, a mage can find the sleeping minds of others, view their dreams and influence or even dominate their thoughts." Jowan said. "He could have given her the nightmare, found her sleeping mind and convinced her the dream was real. There would be no way to wake her up." 

"But I do not understand." Zevran said. "In most dreams you think the dream is real." 

"No, you may not know consciously but you know… I don't know how to explain… but you know you are dreaming and that's why your body doesn't act out the dream, why if you run in a dream you don't move your legs." Jowan said. 

"But she is acting out the dream, fighting, screaming and her body is reacting to pain that isn't real. If she doesn't know, truly doesn't know she is dreaming, she can't wake up. She doesn't know to wake up." Jowan said. 

"Are you saying there is nothing we can… there has to be something we can do." Alistair said. 

"There may be something I can do." Jowan said. 

"What?" Alistair said. 

"I can use the blood magic to find her sleeping mind." Jowan said. 

"Then you can convince her it's a dream. Tell her to wake up." Alistair said. 

"No. That kind of spell to influence thoughts or dreams takes a lot of power and is beyond me to do or try to counter." Jowan said. "But with the mage dead, if she can be convinced it's a dream, that should be enough for her to wake up." 

"But how? She can't hear us." Alistair said. 

"It would have to be inside the dream. Someone would have to enter the dream and then convince her it's a dream." Jowan said. 

"Can you do that?" Alistair said. 

"I can't. Well, maybe but I'd have no way to get out of the dream if she didn't wake up or even if she did actually. But I could send someone else. That way I can pull them back out of the dream." Jowan said. 

"But doesn't that require a… sacrifice?" Alistair said. 

"No, not with this. This is a dream, in the Fade but not the Fade itself. I… I know it's possible and I know how to do it but I've never done anything like it before." Jowan said. 

"Does the person have to be a mage?" Alistair said. 

"No, they'll be inside her dream, they don't need to be able to navigate the Fade. But..." Jowan said. 

"What?" Alistair said. 

"…there is a risk." Jowan said. "If I send someone into her dream, they aren't dreaming. It's really them. It's like a mage going into the Fade. If they die in that dream, they die for real. Not to mention that the rules of the real world, even the rules of the Fade may not apply to a dream. Each dream has their own rules set by the dreamer. It is all based on what they believe is going on." 

"What about her? What if she dies in the dream?" Alistair said. 

"In a normal dream, it wouldn't hurt her. It might even be enough to wake her up, but with her not knowing she's dreaming… it could kill her… or trap her and anyone else in the dream permanently. There's no way to know, but I doubt it would be good." 

Alistair looked down at Kathryn who had stopped screaming and only moaned softly. "Do it." He said. 

"Alistair, you can't." Wynne said. "Jowan said himself, he has never done any of this before, there is no guarantee he can do any of what he says. Even if he can, if you die in the dream you die. You don't know what the nightmare is, what you will face, once there. You may not be able to make her understand she is dreaming. She might be too far…" Alistair turned away. 

Wynne grabbed his arm and turned him back to face her. "Alistair, I'm sorry but she is lost. If you go after her, the most likely result is that you will be too. We can't lose both of you. You two are the last Grey Wardens in Ferelden. You have…" 

"…a responsibility. I know." He said with a sigh. "This is completely… reckless and even… selfish. I'm grasping on to one small chance that I can save her, that this will work. And it isn't just me I'm risking but all Ferelden." 

"Yes." Wynne said sadly but relieved. 

"I know." He said. "And I'm still going after her." 

"But…" Wynne said. 

"I have to." Alistair said. "Jowan, what do I do?" 

"Get any supplies you think you'll need." Jowan said as he sat down and closed his eyes. 

Alistair looked at him curiously. "But you're not sending my actual body right? How is that going to…" 

"You create yourself in the dream. What you have with you here, is what you'll have with you in the dream. Just trust me." Jowan said as he began to glow with red light. 

"Right." Alistair said as he gathered his weapons and picked up a few potions. 

Wynne looked thoughtful and then determined. Her hands started to glow with blue light. 

Alistair stopped. "Wynne, don't. Please." He said without turning to face her. "I don't want to hurt you." Wynne bowed her head as the light from her hands went out. 

Zevran ran to his tent. He grabbed his satchel that contained ingredients for mixing poisons and grenades. He emptied it and then hurried to the cart where the supplies for making potions were kept. He found the empty vials and bottles and filled the bag with them. Then he ran back to where Alistair was. 

"Here." Zevran said as he handed him the bag. "It is filled with grenades, all kinds, fire, ice and lightening. There are a several dozen of them. They are small but very potent. All you have to do is toss them at the feet of the enemy and the glass will instantly break on contact with the ground and the effect will disperse away from you. They are very easy to use. The ice are cool to the touch, fire warm, lightening are neither." Zevran said. 

"Got it. Thank you." Alistair said as he took the satchel. Zevran nodded and stepped back. 

Leliana walked up to him and whispered. "Zevran, those are too small to be grenades or have any power if they are and even then there can't be more than a dozen or so total. Besides grenades disperse their effects everywhere, there is no way to control that and so you must be very careful where you throw them, and throw them hard enough to break the glass, not to mention that you can't tell a grenade by its temperature. Zevran, you know all this!" 

"My dear, I know all of that, but you see he does not." Zevran whispered back. 

"But… I… Oh!" She said covering her mouth to contain her surprise. "Zevran! I could kiss you!" 

"Let us wait and see if the ruse works and if so I shall take you up on that, my dear." Zevran said. 

Several tense moments passed, as they all waited. 

"I found her!" Jowan said. 

"Are you sure?" Alistair said. 

"I'm sure." He said grave. 

"What do I do?" Alistair said. 

"Make sure you have your supplies, then lay down and close your eyes." Jowan said. Alistair laid down next to Kathryn. "Are you ready?" Jowan asked. 

Alistair closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever…" 

56.3 Alistair 

"…be." Alistair said. But he got no answer. He opened his eyes. He could see the night sky. He was in the far back of camp. Jowan couldn't have just sent him here. It was one of the cardinal rules that you can't move anything from one place to another by magic. Then he noticed the fire was out. He waited as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Finally he could make out the beings by the entrance to the camp, dozens of what looked like… darkspawn. Then he heard a moan. 

He reached inside the grenade bag that Zevran had given him. He could feel the dozens of small vials, some cool to the touch, some warm, some neither. He gathered two handfuls of the warm ones and charged the group of darkspawn. He tossed the grenades before him. They release powerful explosions, knocking many of the darkspawn back and down. He rushed in, cutting a path through them. He saw an alpha stand. He quickly knocked it back, and then looked down to where it had been. 

Kathryn was laying on the ground, semi-conscious. He could tell it was her, but only barely. She was naked, her skin grey and clammy, black tainted blood covered her mouth, neck and the inner part of her thighs. Her eyes were blank and hollow. Much of her hair had fallen out. Her arms and legs were painfully thin, while her abdomen and breasts were bloated. 

He picked her up and retreated to the edge of camp, tossing as many of the ice grenades as he could find at the advancing darkspawn. Once there, he set her down and grabbed her by the shoulders. 

"Kathryn! Kathryn, can you hear me? It's Alistair. I'm here. Kathryn, look at me." He took hold of her head in both hands. "Please. Kathryn, you have to listen to me. You're dreaming. This is all a dream. It isn't real. It's a dream. Kathryn! You have to wake up! Kathryn?" 

Her eyes wouldn't focus. Her head rolled back and around. She wasn't responding to him at all. He looked back as the remaining darkspawn came closer. He stood and drew his sword. He had killed many already. He would kill the rest and then he would have time to talk to her, to make her understand. He charged, slicing into the throng. One after another fell, but as each expired, it disappeared and another emerged from the darkness to replace it. As their numbers replenished, they surged forward overwhelming him. 

They pushed, pulled and beat him to the ground. Hands grabbed him, forcing him on his back, holding him down. He saw the alpha approach. He thought they would kill him, or perhaps they would try to turn him… make him a ghoul or… no, he knew what they were going to do with him. The rhyme… he remembered the rhyme… 

'Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin.' 

His gauntlets and chestpiece were removed, his undershirt ripped off. The alpha leaned over him and swiped its hand across Alistair's chest. Its nails tore deep gashes in his flesh. The wounds began to bleed. He looked over at Kathryn who looked up for the first time and smiled. 

56.4 Kathryn 

Pain… it seemed as though there had only ever been the pain… blinding… sickening… maddening… pain… it had obliterated all that had come before… swept it all away as though it had never been… all memory, all thought, all feeling… all hope and fear… gone… all there was… all there had ever been… was the pain… 

Then there was the call… the beautiful song… the soft voice… the gentle music… that took all the pain away… it was unlike any other sound… it brought peace and serenity… ecstasy and rapture… without it there was only anguish, despair and misery… 

But now… there was something new… hunger… it had been small… so very small at first… but then it grew… drowning out all else… even the song… the need was overwhelming… even worse than the pain… her body ached for food… demanded it… craved it… but there was none… only want and need… then the smell… she could smell it… the hunger flared in her… stronger than before… overpowering… screaming at her… forcing her towards it… once she ate… once she fed… then no more hunger… no more pain… only the call… 

She forced herself to move… crawling towards it… it was making noise… she thought it would scream… or cry… but it only… talked… she listened… its voice was… familiar… but how could that be… she looked at him… something stirred in her… a different kind of need… of hunger… he said things… she didn't understand… but they spoke to her… she felt them… she didn't want to remember… remembering only brought pain… he pulled his hand away from those holding it… he reached up and touched her cheek… they grabbed his arm… pinning it back against the ground… she watched as he closed his eyes… once she ate… once she fed… then no more hunger… no more pain… only the call… she attacked… 

56.5 Alistair 

Kathryn started crawling towards him, responding to the smell of blood coming from his wounds. 

"Kathryn. Kathryn, my love, listen to me. I know you remember me. Somewhere inside you, you remember. I know you do." He said. "Like the honey. You remember the honey, don't you? You had written about that in your journal, in between the pages of your… really bad poetry. Then… then there was the afternoon we spent at the Pearl with the roses and the candles, the Orlesian pastries and the four post bed. When we have a place that's… ours… we have to get one of those." 

"There… there was the night we played the matches of the king's game and we had the bet that when one of us lost they had to take off piece of armor. You remember that. I know you let me win the first two games, so you'd have to take your undershirt off knowing I'd be completely distracted for the rest of the matches and lose." He said. 

"Then there was the first night we laid together. Remember I… I didn't know but I put my hand on your hair, then when you tried to move your head I let it go and your forehead hit my chin and we laughed. Remember? There we were in this most important, meaningful, emotional moment and we were laughing… we were… laughing… You remember, don't you? Kathryn?" 

He took all the strength he had and pulled his arm free. He reached up and touched her cheek, but she didn't respond. The darkspawn grabbed his arm pulling it back down to the ground. He searched her eyes for something but they held only hunger and pain. He closed his eyes and waited. 

He heard one of the darkspawn cry out and felt it let go of him. He opened his eyes. She had attacked one of the darkspawn that had been holding his arm and now bashed its head against the ground. 

"That's my girl." He said. He pulled his arm free and punched the darkspawn holding his other arm. He reached for his sword and came up slashing. The alpha attacked him. He dodged and rolled away. It came forward, he hit it twice driving it back, and then ran it through. 

He grabbed her and ran to the other side of the camp, tossing the rest of the grenades behind them. Nearly all of the darkspawn lay dead but as their bodies dissolved into the air, more appeared from the shadows. They didn't have much time. 

"I knew you would remember." He said as he held Kathryn to him, even as the tainted blood burned his skin. He took her head in his hands. "My love, you have to listen to me. Listen carefully. You are dreaming. This is all only a dream. You have to wake up. You… have… to…" He looked into her eyes, eyes that were filled with emotion but not understanding. He realized that while her heart was whole, her mind… was not… not anymore. 

"You don't understand me, do you?" He said. "You know me, you remember me but you can't understand anything I say." He looked up to see the darkspawn advancing slowly towards them led by the alpha. 

He turned back to her. "Listen to me… I love you. I have always loved you… and I will always… love you. Please, remember that… no… no matter… what." He said. 

He stroked her hair. She reached up and wiped a tear from his face. He brushed her cheek and traced her scorched lips with his fingers. She took his hand, closed her eyes and kissed his palm. Then he snapped her neck. He watched through blurred vision as she fell to the ground. At least now, they wouldn't be able to hurt her anymore. 

He turned to see the darkspawn nearly upon him. He waited and hoped for a miracle but none came. With the sound of their laughter in his ears, he took his sword and placed the tip against his abdomen. He took a deep breath and watched as the blade sliced into his flesh. Then everything went black. 

Chapter 57: Twenty-Fourth Camp 

57.1 Alistair 

Alistair heard the flap to the tent. He opened his eyes and watched Kathryn enter. She quietly took of her armor, boots and gloves. She started to remove her undershirt but then considered and left them and her leggings on. She laid down next to him. He turned to her and she slightly jumped. 

"Oh, I was trying not to wake you." She said. 

"That's all right. I woke up when you came in." He said. "So, not to nag but how are you? I know you say you're fine but are you?" 

"I'm… better. Maybe not exactly fine, but better." She said with a weak smile. "The last few days were hard but it's getting easier, slowly. Still a bit jumpy, a little on edge. I can't get it out of my head, not completely." 

"I'd be worried about you if you could." He said. "As long as it's getting better. That's what's important, that you survived and that you get better." 

"And that's mostly thanks to you. You pulled me out of that and then ever since… I don't know what I would have done without you." She said. "I know it wasn't easy for you… to do what you did …" 

"I'm fine, as long as you're all right." He said as he reached up and touched her face. 

"I will be." She said with a smile. She took a deep breath. "I know that you want… to be with me and I haven't been ready…" 

"No, you take as long as you need. I'll wait. I'll wait till you're ready. I know you're worth it." He said. 

She smiled. "I have missed you, you know. Missed being with you." She looked down and then back to him. "Maybe… maybe we could try and see…" 

"Are you sure?" He said. 

"No, but I'm also not sure that not trying is better." She said. "I won't know till I do." 

"If that's what you want to do, we can, sure." He said. 

"I do want to… to be with you." She said. She reached up and touched his jaw and then traced his lips with her finger. 

"I love you, you know that, right?" He said touching her face. 

"I do, I do know that and I love you." She said as she leaned in and kissed him, tentatively at first, gently, slowly, then more and more intently. He ran his hands over her shoulders, down her sides to her hips. Her body tensed slightly at his touch but then relaxed. She rolled him over onto his back and then with some hesitation crawled on top of him, kissing him, his jaw and down his neck. As she reached his chest, she stopped, pulled up and bowed her head. 

"Are you all right? We can stop if you want. It's fine. I mean that." He said concerned. 

She raised her head, looking at him but not seeing, her eyes were empty and hollow. Her face had no expression at all. "Kathryn? What is it?" 

She swiped her hand across his chest tearing deep gashes into his flesh. His arms were pulled back, pinned by unseen hands to the ground. As the blood began to flow from his wounds, she smiled at him. His head was forced back as he felt her hands rip out his throat. 

He woke up, throwing his arms before him to ward off the attack that wasn't happening. He sat upright and looked around the tent, but he was alone and the night was quiet. He was in a cold sweat and breathing too hard. His heart was racing and his hands were shaking. He searched and found the bottle of brandy. He took a quick drink and then another longer one. 

He rubbed his eyes, trying to dispel the vision and the panic. Over the last several days the nightmares had gotten worse, more vivid, more intense, tormenting the little sleep he was getting. He took another drink. There was less than a quarter left. He had started drinking the brandy to help him relax and fall asleep, at least that was what he had told himself. At first it was just the one, then just two, then a couple more than that, and now more and more. 

He needed some air and some water. He stood and was only slightly unsteady on his feet. He put on his shirt, breeches and boots. He looked back and reluctantly picked up the bottle of brandy. He stepped outside the tent. It would be dawn soon. It was still cold here but better than the freezing temperatures of the mountains. 

Kathryn was sitting by the fire, sleeping her own tortured sleep. 

She had not said more than two dozen words to him in the days since that night. He had wanted nothing more than to put his arms around her, hold her to him and drive the memory of that night away, but each time he tried to touch her, she flinched and turned away. Each time he tried to talk to her she would distance herself from him. If anyone mentioned darkspawn or the Blight, she left. 

She was functional, still very much in charge and able to lead them but there was no emotion, no heart in anything she did. Although for the most part she stared off into nothing. She was tense and jumped at every noise. And while all of that was understandable, even to be expected, she was getting worse with each day that passed, not better. But most distressing of all was that she said she was fine, and he thought that maybe she even believed it. 

He didn't understand why she wouldn't talk to him, why she kept pushing him away. At first he had been confused, but now he could feel the anger slowly build in him. 

He had risked his life to save her, been dropped into a magically induced nightmare, knowing he could die and not knowing what he would face there. He had also risked the fate of Ferelden to go after her. They were the last Grey Wardens in the country and with Loghain in charge, there would be no more. If they had any chance to stop the Blight before it destroyed Ferelden at least one of them had to survive. It had been reckless and selfish. He had betrayed his duty and responsibility to try to save her. 

And he had failed, at least he had thought so. He'd had to face the worst possible outcome, that she couldn't be saved, that he couldn't get through to her, that they were trapped. He'd had to make that terrible decision to kill her, trapping himself in the dream, forcing him to fall on his blade or be taken. He had thought that his actions had guaranteed that Ferelden would fall to the blight. That not only did Kathryn die by his hands but that the deaths of hundreds if not thousands of people were on his head. Those few minutes after he had killed her, waiting, hoping, praying for a miracle and then realizing that none was coming, and then having to deal with the despair, the guilt and the shame, weighed heavy on him. 

He had told Jowan what had happened, mostly. He had said that they had been overwhelmed, that the darkspawn had 'killed' her and run him though. He hadn't been able to admit the truth. Jowan figured that she had on some level heard and believed him when he told her she was dreaming and so when she 'died', she had woken up. 

His exit from the dream had been more perilous. As soon as Kathryn woke up, Jowan had pulled him out of the dream. However, the near severing of the link between his body and mind had put both under extreme stress. After being brought back, he had passed out and awoken the next day. 

But despite them both being alive, he'd had to face that horrible, desperate situation and make that decision. He now knew how felt to run completely out of options, to know only despair and have no hope, to have faced his death knowing that he had failed completely at all he had cared about and dedicated his life to. 

He knew what he was capable of, what he would do if pushed and while that should provide some comfort, to know in the worst of situations he would do what he had to, it didn't. The whole thing had left a sort of chill in his soul and one that nothing seemed able to touch or alleviate. 

Then despite everything, he had lost Kathryn, nearly as completely as if she had never come out of the dream at all. During those last moments in the dream, he had held her to him and she hadn't pulled away and she had looked at him with emotion if not understanding. What he wouldn't give for that now? 

He watched her sleep for a few moments and then walked out to the small stream outside camp. 

57.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn woke up with a start. All was calm and quiet. She hadn't meant to fall asleep by the fire, she told herself, it just happened again for some reason, as it had every night since... for a while. She had thought about retiring to the tent she shared with Alistair, but… hadn't. Then again, it wasn't like she was sleeping much anyway. 

The sky was light but the sun was not yet above the horizon. They had received word from Eamon that the Landsmeet would be held as soon as the snows had passed but that it would still be some time yet. They were welcome to stay at Redcliffe but right now the weather made the trip dangerous if not impossible. So they had traveled down from the mountain and camped close to a village. They would hold up here for a while, use the time to rest and recuperate. 

She stood with effort. She was stiff and ached all over. Apparently her body didn't like sleeping in such a position. She should really go to bed tonight, should have before now but... She looked over at the tent. Alistair was probably still sleeping. She wasn't sure she could sleep in a tent. She didn't like being trapped or not knowing what was going on around her. It was easier in the daytime. At night there were too many shadows and too many noises she couldn't account for. 

Then while she did want to lay next to him, hold him and be held by him when she thought about it… about anyone touching her, she couldn't help but feel… their hands on her, grabbing her, holding her, and her skin burned with the memory. 

She knew what had happened had been a dream, a magically induced nightmare that Alistair and Jowan had saved her from. Jowan had tried to explain to her what had happened but she hadn't wanted or needed to hear it. The only thing she needed to know was that it had only been a dream and was now over and it would soon be forgotten like other dreams and then everything would go back to the way it was. Until then she was a little jumpy perhaps but really she was fine. 

She thought to wash up a bit before going into the village. Some cold water might help to wake her up, with the lack of sleep she felt as though walking in a bit of a daze. She felt numb, exhausted and at times found it hard to focus, and she had to stay focused. But she was just tired, really that's all it was. 

She made her way out to the small stream, but as she got closer she saw something by the water. She felt herself tense but continued on, cautiously, taking courage from the daylight. She stepped to the bank and saw that it was Alistair. As she stepped closer, he woke up. His eyes were bloodshot. He blinked and squinted in the morning light. 

"What are you doing out here?" She asked. 

"I couldn't sleep and needed a drink... of water." He reached over and picked up an empty bottle and then rubbed his head. He looked sick. 

"Well, I... I'll leave you to wash up." She said feeling nervous and started to turn away. 

"Don't leave on my account." He said with an accusatory edge to his voice. 

"I'm not." She said. "I'm just…" 

"Avoiding me, I know." He said. 

"I'm not avoiding you." She said and she wasn't, not really. 

"Then why leave?" He asked. "You didn't come out here to check on me. No doubt you thought I was still sleeping in our tent. There must have been a reason you came out here and unless you have already achieved it, why would you leave so soon? Unless, as I said, you are avoiding me." He stood up, a bit unsteady on his feet. 

"Why would I be avoiding you?" She asked. 

"How would I know? But if you aren't trying to avoid me, I'd hate to see what would happen if you were." He said bitterly. 

"What do you want from me?" She said. 

"I want you to talk to me, tell me what's wrong..." He said. 

"There's nothing wrong!" She said nearly screaming. "It was a dream. It didn't happen. I'm fine with it. I don't need to talk about it. I'm fine…" 

"You're not fine!" He said. "How can you possibly think that you are?" 

"Or maybe I really am and I'm simply not meeting your expectations of falling apart just because I had a bad dream." She said. "I can't afford to just fall apart at every little thing." 

"No, you don't fall apart you just shut down. You are quite good at it. Your impersonation of a tranquil is marvelous, truly." He said and then sighed. "Why won't you let me help you?" 

"I don't need help." She said. "I just need everyone to stop asking me if I'm all right…" 

"So, you're ignoring it and hoping it all goes away. Good plan!" He said. "It's not going to. You're not getting better, you're getting worse. And you know this isn't all about you, if that matters to you at all." 

"That's not fair." She said. 

"No, I'll tell what's not fair… you punishing me and not telling me why." He said. 

"Punishing… I'm not!" She said. 

"Kathryn, you won't talk to me, won't let me touch you, and you won't tell me why." He said. 

"It isn't that…" she said. 

"Then what is it?" He said. 

"Look, I… I need to get back." She turned away and started back to camp. 

"No, you can't just walk away from me, not now, not like this." He said. 

She felt a hand grab her arm. The daylight evaporated. She was surrounded by shadows, engulfed by them. She could feel so many more hands all over her, grabbing her, trying to touch and hold her. She heard the growls, the laughter in her ears, the voice of the alpha whispering to her. The alpha had attacked her, held her, pinned her to the ground, done those… things to her… turned her into... She wouldn't… she couldn't go through that again. 

"Let go of me, you bastard!" She struck blindly and hit it hard. She felt the hand let go. Then the light returned. The shadows disappeared, the hands disappeared, the voices dispersed. She looked around. Alistair was standing in front of her. She could see his lip was bleeding. 

"What… I… I didn't… Oh, Maker! I didn't mean that… I didn't mean to… do that… I…" She said. 

"Really? Well, if you didn't mean that, what did you mean?" He said. She could hear the anger in his voice. 

"I… I…" She said. She couldn't think. She needed to think. She didn't want him to believe that she meant him… but how could she tell him that she had been fighting a darkspawn, one that had attacked her in a dream? How can she tell him that she had momentarily lost all sense of reality? She... couldn't. 

"That's what I thought." He said. "I see now that I was completely wrong and that you are just fine. Or maybe you're just too damn proud to admit you need help and too arrogant to accept it… at least not from the likes of me." 

"Alistair… please, I didn't mean…" She said. 

"You have no right to shut me out like this. Not after what I had to… what I…" He turned away and after a moment said. "See I thought that when you were with someone you helped them. That when something happened you helped each other. But then again what do I know, I'm just some idiot who grew up in a hay loft. I guess nobles aren't like that. That's good to know." He said and walked away. 

Kathryn listened to his footfalls and then heard glass shattering. 

Chapter 58: Twenty-Fourth Camp Part II 

58.1 Zevran 

Zevran emerged from his tent. It was just after dawn. Leliana was making breakfast. Jowan and she had been taking turns preparing the meals for the last week, ever since Kathryn's nightmare. He had never thought he would miss Alistair's cooking but Alistair was not in any condition to be fixing food. Neither he nor Kathryn were doing well. There had been many worried looks between the rest of the group. 

Kathryn had awoken from the dream, confused and disoriented and extremely distressed. Jowan and Sigrun had told the rest about the broodmothers after they had returned from the deep roads. Jowan said that Alistair had confirmed that they had played a part in her dream in ways none of them needed to be spelled out. It was understandable and even to be expected that she would have trouble dealing with such an experience despite the fact that it actually hadn't happened. The problem was that she wasn't dealing with it. She had shut down emotionally, and shut Alistair out completely. She was only a shell of her former self and seemed to be getting worse by the day. 

Alistair wore his emotions on his sleeve and everywhere else come to think of it. He was deeply troubled and would not talk about what had happened, at least not with anyone who was willing to talk to him about it. Jowan said Alistair had told him that both he and Kathryn had been 'killed' in the dream but given Alistair's reaction, and the fact that too much of his secret supply of brandy was disappearing each day, Zevran and the rest figured there was more to it than that. 

They all were worried. Both Kathryn and Alistair were strong and they had formed a bond that had strengthened both of them, made each of them better. Yet, like anything bonded together, if you rip that bond apart, the two parts are left weaker than they otherwise would have been. The thing was none of them had any idea what to do. Kathryn insisted she was fine and refused to talk about what had happened and Alistair needed her to do just that. 

He looked around and saw that Sigrun was watching a bug crawling on a bush. She gently touched it and it unexpectedly flew away, much to her delight. Zevran had to smile. He noticed that the little dwarf caused that reaction in him quite often. She was so different than, well, anyone he had ever met. Her sheer joy at everything was pleasant to watch, but she was also sensible, funny and even… pretty, but not in a way he found attractive… not his type at all really… no, not at all… 

Sigrun saw him get up and ran over to him. "I saw a bug, on that bush. It was red with black spots and when I touched it, it flew away." She giggled. 

"You do not have such bugs in Orzammar?" He asked. 

"Well, beetles, yes, roaches mostly but they don't fly and the bugs here are such pretty colors. And the flowers! They close at night and then open in the morning, just like they are waking up." She said. 

"Yes, I knew that, quite remarkable, really." He said. 

"I mean how do they know?" She said. 

Zevran was about to answer when he heard a noise coming from the stream outside camp. It sounded like glass shattering, but that seemed unlikely. The rest looked at each other and then got ready for whatever seemed to be approaching the camp from that direction. Then Alistair appeared and he looked horrible. His eyes were bloodshot and his lip was bleeding. 

Zevran looked quickly around and saw that Kathryn was not in the camp. That could explain a lot. As Alistair approached, Leliana said. "Are you alright?" 

"Yes, I'm fine." He said. 

"But your lip?" She said. He reached up and wiped the blood from his mouth. He looked at it with an odd expression, surprise mixed with bitter amusement. "What happened?" She asked. 

"A…. tree branch… hit…" He said absent-mindedly. "… it doesn't matter." 

"A tree branch hit him!" Sigrun said alarmed. "They do that?" 

"No, they do not, at least not the ones here." Zevran said. 

"Oh, good. I mean, I knew that." She said relieved. 

Alistair reached into the tent he shared with Kathryn. He grabbed his gloves, sword and shield and started towards the entrance to the camp. "Where are you going?" Leliana said. 

"To the village. I need a… stuff." He said. 

Zevran was not inclined to let him go alone and would not be upset at an excuse to get breakfast in the village. "Wait, my friend!" Zevran said. "I will go with you." 

"I'm coming too." Sigrun said and hurried after them. Jowan and Oghren joined them as they all followed Alistair out of camp. 

Alistair was making long, powerful strides and was quickly outdistancing the rest of them. "My friend," Zevran said as he caught up to him. "…may I suggest that you slow your pace. Our dwarven friends may have a hard time keeping up." Not to mention himself, he thought. The difference in stride from elf to human was not much but the way Alistair was walking, Zevran would almost have to run to keep up. 

Alistair looked back, seeming to notice them for the first time. "Oh right." He slowed. It was still a more deliberate and determined pace than normal, but at least now they could keep up. 

"I see that you are not well, my friend." Zevran said. "The Anitvans have a remedy to help in such situations." 

"No, I'm fine." Alistair said and then flinched noticeably. "Sorry, that'd be… good." 

"And Jowan can easily heal your lip." Zevran said. "He is getting quite good at it, no doubt all the practice." 

"No, I'd rather he didn't. It will remind me not to do that again." He said. 

"You need to be reminded to not to hit a tree branch?" Zevran said. 

"What?" Alistair said. "Oh… I mean… to be more careful." Jowan had walked up and despite what he had just heard, he raised his hand and healed Alistair's lip just enough so that it would not scar. 

Zevran tried to think of another topic of conversation but Alistair seemed lost in his own thoughts. 

Zevran noticed with some pleasure that Sigurn walked next to him. 

They came up to the village. It was rather large, with a good sized market district with several stalls, blacksmith, tavern, chantry, general store and even an apothecary, many homes in town and several farms surrounding it, a typical Ferelden village. 

As they left the highway, Alistair excused himself and said he'd catch up in a bit. Zevran wasn't sure if just needed to relieve himself or was going to be sick, but noted the direction he went in case he did not return soon. 

The rest continued on to the village. Zevran saw that there were over half dozen male humans standing outside the tavern, which they had to pass to get to the market. Jowan, Sigrun and Oghren didn't know enough of human society for this to cause them any alarms but Zevran had a feeling this might be trouble. 

"Well, looky here! A knife ears, two short legs, and a man in a skirt." One called out. 

"I didn't hear the circus was in town." Another said. 

"I wonder if they do tricks." One said. 

"I'm sure she does." As they all laughed indecently. "Perfect height too." 

"Probably the knife ears does too. I've heard about elves." One said. "Isn't that right, knife ears?" 

"Bunch of sodding nug swishers!" Oghren said. The humans didn't know what that meant, and looked at each other confused. 

"Zevran, I don't…" Sigrun said. 

"Just ignore them." Zevran said. While they were outnumbered and a couple were armed, they were only locals. They could handle themselves easily but they did not want trouble, especially since they needed to stay in the area for a while. He hoped the group would give them that option, but somehow doubted it. As they walked by, one stepped up to him, and pushed him back. "I was talking to you, knife ears!" 

"Excuse me." Zevran heard a voice say from behind the man. The man turned and then fell hard onto the ground grabbing his jaw. Zevran could now see that Alistair was standing behind him. The one next to Zevran reached for his dagger, Zevran pulled the dagger from another's belt and held it to the first one's stomach. "I'd think twice about that if I were you." 

Sigrun pulled out her crossbow and leveled it at the groin of another who had stepped forward. "Perfect height, huh?" 

As frost formed around both of Jowan's hands, Oghren drew his battleaxe and turned to the one with a mace. "Let's see who has the biggest weapon and who knows best how to use it." 

One of the others stepped towards Alistair, who turned and hit him in chest staggering him back. Alistair turned back to the one on the ground who was trying to stand. Alistair hit him again, driving him back down. "Now, look... we don't want any trouble, and trust me you don't want the kind of trouble we can give you. So how about you don't bother me or my friends again and we won't hurt all of you. Fair enough?" 

"Quite generous, in fact." Zevran said. The man nodded and stood. Zevran replaced the dagger. Sigrun lowered her crossbow. Oghren put down his axe. The group of locals walked away. 

"Everyone all right." Alistair said. Everyone nodded. 

"We could have taken 'em." Oghren said. 

"Sure, but not without resorting to weapons and magic. Magic gets us attention from templars that we don't want, and if you draw weapons first they then can arrest you for assault and good luck getting justice if you're a dwarf, elf or mage in a human village. Not saying it isn't possible but I wouldn't bet on it. But if I punch him, he'll back off and the most they can get me for is fighting, and that's if he reports it, which he won't." Alistair said. 

"Men are all the same, regardless of their race, they can't help being stupid and obnoxious." Sigrun said. 

All of them looked at her. "Present company excluded, of course." She said embarrassed. 

"Humans might be the worse of the lot though, just because they can be." Alistair said. "We should be all right now. I don't think they'll come back, just a bunch of bullies and cowards, which come to think of it is redundant." He said more to himself then the rest. "All the same, probably be best if you stay together and stay in the market. They might jump one if they find them alone but not two. I'll meet up with all of you later. I've got stuff to get at the tavern." Alistair said and headed that way. 

"So, having just said for us to stay together, he goes off by himself to a location he knows they frequent. I do wonder that he does not wish a confrontation." Zevran said. 

"What do you mean?" Sigrun said. 

"The first punch is exactly as he says, enough to get him to back off and he will not report, but the second was unnecessary and while effectively making him the object of any retaliation, it is a slight that may guarantee a response and he must know that." Zevran said. 

"But why would he do that?" Jowan said. 

"Because that boy's itching for a fight, even if he doesn't know it." Oghren said as he looked at the others. "Believe me, I know. After a while you just want to hit somebody. It's a warrior thing." 

As they watched Alistair walk off, Jowan looked at Zevran and with his eyes said, 'You and Sigrun go now and I'll stay with Oghren.' 

Zevran's eyes said 'I owe you.' 

Jowan look said clearly, 'Yes, you do! Go!' 

"My dear Sigrun, shall we go into the market. No doubt you have much to shop for, yes?" Zevran said and started to walk quickly away from the others. 

"Yes, Kathryn said I could get some new… Oh! Look at all this!" She said excited, as her eyes ran over the market. "And no one here is going to throw me out of their store!" 

Zevran could hear Jowan say. "I guess that leaves you and me." 

Oghren looked after them and said. "Oh. Well… You know, I've got a craving for some spit-roasted nug with hot sauce. You think they have that here?" 

"Hmmm... that does sound good. We can look. But first I need to get some things at the apothecary." Jowan said as he took Oghren in the opposite direction. 

As they entered the apothecary, Oghren looked around. "Branka used to drag me into stores like this all the time. Before she went crazy she used to collect little ceramic horses. It's true." 

58.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn sat by the stream. She should go back to the camp, but the quiet, the calm and the peacefulness here with only the sounds of water was nice. She sat so still that animals had come up to the stream to drink and never knew she was there. It was like she didn't even exist. Leliana had come out looking and calling for her. She had stayed hidden and not answered and eventually she had went back to camp. 

She had lost control, of well… everything, her mind, body, thoughts, emotions, all of it. She had lost all sense of realty, of time and place, worse than that, for she had thought she was someplace she had never in fact been. He had grabbed her and she had believed that she was being attacked by the alpha, that she was back in the dream. She had lashed out without thinking, without understanding, striking and screaming. She had hurt him, physically and emotionally. All that was forgivable but she hadn't asked to be forgiven, hadn't given him a reason to forgive her. She had let him walk away, not able to tell him what had happened or why. 

It was getting harder and harder to convince herself that she was fine, especially when she did things like that. She wondered how much denial one person can stand? And the fact that she even thought to ask herself that question told her perhaps all she needed to know. 

When she had found out that what had happened had been a dream, she had wanted to treat it as just a dream, no more than a product of her fearful imagination, a shadow that would be dispersed by the light of day. She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to acknowledge it, didn't want to give it any power over her, in the hopes that it would withdraw back into the dark recesses of her mind. He hoped that she would forget all about it and things would go back to the way they were before. But she also needed to believe that was her choice to not think about, to not talk about, that she was doing this as a way to handle the situation and not that she was running away from it. 

However, despite her ignoring it as best she could, it hadn't disappeared. It was still with her, following her, pursuing her, stalking her like prey. Those feelings, the helplessness, the despair, the mind numbing fear, all seemed just there, waiting to take over at any time, waiting for her to slip up, for a show of weakness, for one chink in the armor, a crack in her defenses, so that they could overtake her. 

She couldn't let that happen. It wasn't pride, it wasn't. She needed to be in control of herself, of her emotions and of the situation. She was the leader. She was in charge. She had to believe she was in control, not only of her own fate but that of Ferelden, that she could make a difference, that somehow if she played this out perfectly that they could survive. 

She had to believe there was a chance and that at least part of it was up to her, that what she did mattered in the end, because that was the only way she could keep going. Maybe it was arrogance, conceit that she had any influence in the outcome of the blight and the civil war, but that belief was all she had to ward off the fear that threatened to cripple her, the terrible all consuming fear that all this was hopeless. 

If she thought about what had happened, if she could get trapped in such a nightmare with no way for her to escape, if she could be beaten and broken by something as ephemeral as a dream, if her fate and that of Ferelden were out of her hands, if all that was true, she couldn't help but think, what was the point of fighting and struggling? Of their suffering and sacrifice? Why if faced with such a situation as they were, why would you not simply give up? She had no answer. 

She would stay out here a bit longer, the peace, though illusionary was nice, even if the calm only portended the coming storm. 

58.3 Alistair 

Alistair walked into the tavern. It was nice and big, roomy but comfortable and intimate, warm and friendly. There were a only a couple patrons finishing up breakfast. The waitress was cleaning off the tables. 

He walked up to the bar. 

"What can I get you?" The bartender said. 

"Bottle of an Antivan brandy, something decent." Alistair pulled out the coins from his pocket. "Damn." He counted them twice but the result was the same, he didn't have enough. "Wait." He pulled out the contents from another pocket. There were a few coins but still not enough. Among the few coins was ring, a woman's ring, engraved. Alistair picked it up and seemed to consider. 

"You might want to keep that." The bartender said. "She may want it back some day." 

"She never had it." Alistair said as he turned the ring over in his hand, running his finger over the inscription. "I bought it to give to her but… it wasn't the right time." 

"Might still be one day." The bartender said. "Give her time to cool off. Women are like that, get all upset and say all kinds of things they don't mean, then sorry for it." 

"She didn't… isn't… something happened to her… something horrible. But she just… shut me out. Just like that. She won't talk to me, won't look at me. It's like I'm not even there." Alistair said. He placed the ring back on the bar. "Just… just give me the brandy." 

Shape 

Chapter 59: Twenty-Fourth Camp Part III 

Shape 

59.1 Zevran 

Zevran set out the lunch he had bought at the market, bread, fruit, dried meat, wine and cheese, made from cow's not nug's milk, under a nice spot just off the market square under a tree. Sigrun was staring intently at her gift. Zevran had talked to the herbalist and bought her a plant. A bright colorful flower that opened at dawn and closed at dusk and was easy to care for. The herbalist had even put it in a nice pot for him. 

Sigrun had giggled excitedly when he had given it to her and had not stopped staring at it in rapt wonderment. "Come, you must eat. The plant will still be there after we have eaten." 

"Oh yes, it will, won't it?" She said carefully putting the plant down. "It's so pretty and smells wonderful, fresh and sweet. Almost good enough to eat, but I have a feeling that would be a bad idea." 

They had both made purchases in the market. Sigrun had bought a book, The Warrior's Heart, about various orders of warriors with an emphasis on the Grey Wardens, the Ash Warriors, Legion of the Dead and the Silent Sisters. 

Sigrun had told him about her friend, Varlan. He had been a noble from House Vollney before joining the Legion. She never knew why he had joined. He had taught her to read, since the casteless are not allowed to learn. He had given her his ring before he died. 

"You cared a great deal for him, yes?" Zevran had asked. 

"I did. He was my friend. The first one I ever really had. The only one." She said sad and thoughtful. 

Seeing her like this made Zevran like her even more, to know the joy she displayed was born of hardship and sorrow. That despite a hard and troubled life she had held onto her innocence, her joy and wonder at the world and had not, as many do, grown bitter, hard and cynical. 

Zevran had always tried to make the best of whatever situation he found himself in, stealing what moments of joy or pleasure where he could. It had served him well, most days. It was nice to see that they seemingly shared a similar outlook. 

"I was thinking." Sigrun said. 

"Oh, do tell." He said. 

"Just that you're an elf and I'm a dwarf from different parts of Thedas but our pasts are actually rather similar. We both grew up in cultures that considered us worthless; we both had to fight to survive, literally; both had little choice but to join criminal groups; and both left those organizations to fight the Blight." She said. 

"This is quite true." He said. 

"Funny how two people who would seem to have nothing in common, could have so much in common." She said. 

"Yes, it is a pleasant surprise to be sure." He said. 

Several comfortable moments passed as they ate and watched the people in the market. 

"Can I ask you something?" She said. 

"You may ask me whatever you wish, my dear." He said. 

"I noticed that you look at people, stare at them really. Well, the attractive people anyway." She said. 

"I appreciate good looking people, yes." He said. 

"Well, I noticed that you look at both woman and men." She said. 

"Yes, that is also true." He took a drink of wine and considered. "I grew up amongst Antivan whores, men and women both, and was trained to seduce whomever is required. My introduction to the subject of sex was, shall we say, rather practical. I have had to do many things in my work as an assassin, some pleasant and many not so. The Crows recruit elven assassins because we are considered beautiful by humans… I'm sure you can imagine the rest." He said and took another drink of wine. 

"I have been with both men and women in my time. Many, in fact. Often for business but not always. I was raised to take my pleasures where they could be found, for they do not come very often. Sex is best when done well, and truly that is my only rule. Does… that offend you?" Zevran said. 

"No." She said simply. "Dwarves from Orzammar, warriors, merchants, nobles would come to Dust Town to go slumming. It was usually a hot meal and at least night off the streets where you weren't fighting for a place to sleep or a scrap of food. It could mean the difference between surviving and not. Most of us would, men and women, no matter who the person was. And also well... there isn't a lot to do in Dust Town." 

"I understand." Zevran said. "We do what we must, yes?" 

"So, you don't have a preference?" She said. 

"Given my druthers I prefer women." He said. "But I discount no one." 

"Have you ever been in love?" She asked. 

Zevran laughed. "I was born of a whore and bred as an assassin. All I know is of pleasure and death. What room is there in these things for love?" 

Sigrun looked at him curiously. "You didn't actually answer the question." 

Zevran looked at his wine. "I… perhaps." 

"I guess it didn't go so well, huh?" She said. 

"No, it did not." He said. 

"I'm sorry." She said. 

"So am I." He said to his wine. 

After some moments, she asked. "Was it a woman?" 

"It was." He said. 

"Will you tell me about her one day?" She asked. 

Zevran considered. "One day, I… I may." 

She smiled and picked up a slice of the cheese. "This is really good. Cheese from cows! Who would have ever thought!" 

"Yes, it staggers the imagination." Zevran said with a smile. 

59.2 Alistair 

Alistair sat next to the fire and sipped his brandy. He had watched the tavern's lunch crowd come and go and also the movements of an attractive young woman who had come in talked with several of the men before her and one went upstairs for a while. This sequence was repeated a couple times. Now that the place was nearly empty, she made her way over to him. 

"Hello." She said as she sat down in the chair opposite his. "I don't believe I've seen you here before." 

"No, you haven't." He said. "You do a pretty good business here." 

She looked startled and then smiled. "Yes, lunch time is pretty busy, then after dinner of course. Now however is a bit slow." 

"Well, I can save you some time. I spent the last money I had on this brandy. So even if I wanted to, I don't have the coin. Sorry." He said. 

"I appreciate the candor and if I had other potentials, I would move on. But as you can see, it is either you or the bartender and you have the advantage of being new and… handsome." She said. 

"Now, you're flattering me." He said. 

"It isn't flattery if it is true." She said. "But what you said begs the question of if you would, if you did have the coin." She said. 

"Yes, it does." He said. 

"Well, you're lonely. That's obvious." She said. 

"Is it?" He said. 

"Yes, it is. Especially to one looking for it. Most people think men partake of such services for fun, and some do, but most are lonely. Either because they have no one, or if they do they are not with them or if with them, they might as well be a thousand miles away. It's the longing that gets them. But, then I don't have to tell you that, do I?" She said. 

"I told you. I don't have any coin." He said. 

"No, but you are a man of honor. I can tell. If you promised to pay later, you would. You're the type." She said. 

"You could be wrong. Why would you risk it?" He said. 

"As I said, this is a slow time and while I do to survive, I see no reason for me not to enjoy myself. I lie with many men, nearly all of which are not nearly as attractive as you and I must say that I'm curious as to your… attributes. So, I spend only my time of which I have plenty now and at the very least satisfy my curiosity if not... other things. As you see, there is little risk in it for me." She said. 

Alistair finished his brandy and set the glass down and stared into the fire. 

She smiled. "You're tempted. Well, you're a man, of course, you're tempted. It is the way of men, but you are not willing, not yet. Whatever has brought you to drinking in front of a tavern fire in the middle of the day has not pushed you that far, not yet anyway." 

"No, not yet." He said. 

"Well, in that case, I shall leave you to your brandy. But the offer stands and you know where I am. Good day." She said. 

He watched as she walked back to the bartender. He poured another cheap brandy and took the ring out of his pocket. No, he thought, not yet. 

59.3 Alistair 

Alistair finished his drink, put the ring back in his pocket and the rest of the bottle of brandy in his pack and walked out of the tavern. 

He saw the man standing by the entrance to the market, watching him. He should just go to the market, find the others and head back to camp. He stumbled outside the tavern and took a few uneasy and wandering steps and then took an apparently confused turn into an alley behind the tavern. The man quickly left. 

He only made it about half way down the alley before the entrance was cut off by the locals he had met earlier along with a few more. Eight of them, a few with daggers, a couple with simple maces. He realized that this was a very bad time for him to remember that he hadn't taking the time to put his armor on before coming to the village. Of course, if he had been in full armor, they wouldn't be attacking him. 

None of them were trained fighters. He could tell by how they got set for the fight. They probably couldn't take more than a good punch, a bash with the shield or a glancing hit with the mace. He could easily take three or five times that without blinking and may have to. The key was not trying to avoid getting hit, with this many people against him, he would get hit, it was knowing which hits to take and minimizing their effect. In addition, if he took out a couple quickly, at least two of them would run. 

The one he had punched earlier, who seemed to be the leader of the little group, was talking about respect and such as they all walked down the alley. Alistair wasn't listening. He was watching, taking the measure of the group. 

"All right, boys." The leader said. "Get…" Alistair rushed him. The man instinctively raised his arms to protect his face and Alistair hit him in the stomach. As he keeled over, Alistair hit him in the upper back. He fell to the ground. 

The one next to him drew his mace and swung it at him. Alistair avoided it and then grabbed it. You can't have trained with a sword for nearly ten years without developing strong hands and wrists. He twisted the mace until the man was forced to let go of it and then he hit him in the side of the leg with it. 

Alistair turned wielding the mace and knocked the dagger out of another's hand. He grabbed his wrist and ran. The next two tried to rush him. Alistair let the one hit him absorbing the blow and swung at the other. The man avoided the mace, as Alistair thought he would but Alistair then followed it up with a punch which staggered him back. 

The other had picked up the dagger and attacked. Alistair used the mace to block the dagger and kicked him back. Alistair looked at the three remaining men, who had seemingly lost all interest in the fight. They looked at each other and turned and ran out of the alley. He walked back to where the leader was trying to get up. He grabbed his shirt and pulled him to his feet. "The next time I stop trying not to hurt you." He threw him back to the ground and walked out of the alley. 

He walked up to a large barrel just to the side of the entrance to the alley. "Thanks." He said to the barrel. Jowan stood from behind it. "How did you…" 

"Templar." Alistair said. 

"Oh, right." Jowan said. 

"And you can tell Zevran to come down from wherever he is." Alistair said. 

Jowan looked past Alistair to the other side of the entrance and waved. Zevran dropped from the building. "Now, do not be upset, my friend. We are well aware that you can handle yourself but with so many, we just wanted…" 

"Thanks." Alistair said to him. "Let's get back to camp." 

59.4 Zevran 

They arrived back at camp. Jowan had picked up a request from the Chanter's Board, regarding a group of highwaymen who were ambushing and raiding travelers. Jowan said that it seemed just their thing. He knew they always needed coin plus it might be a good idea to endure themselves to the local guard and Chantry. 

Kathryn looked over the sheet. After reading it through, she looked to the sky and said. "We have time to check the ambush point before dark. Then see if we can't find their camp. Zevran, Jowan and… Sten, get ready, we leave immediately." 

"What?" Alistair said both incredulous and furious. The rest of them cringed. "I'm not going! Why?" 

"You aren't in any condition to go." She said. 

Oghren was standing next to Zevran and grunted as though he had been gut punched. "Oh, she shouldn't have said that." He said. 

"Why not?" Zevran asked him. "He does not look particularly well, now perhaps she should not assume he cannot fight but I don't see…" 

"Rogues." Oghren said. "Let me translate it for you. She just said that he couldn't fight… that he can't perform…" 

"Oh, yes, I see." Zevran said and grimaced. "No, this will not be good." 

Alistair's eyes had widened, apparently shocked by what she had said. "You've never went into a fight without me." 

"You've never been drunk before." She said. 

"I'm not." He said. "I had a few drinks, yes but not... I can fight." 

"Well, I can't risk finding out in the middle of a battle that isn't true." She said. 

"Ask Zevran and Jowan, they saw me fight eight locals." He said. 

"Why were you fighting locals?" She asked. 

"They were harassing us, and I… they jumped me." He said. 

"That is true, yes." Zevran said. 

"He did. Although three of them did run when he took out the other five." Jowan said. 

"Fighting unarmed peasants isn't the same as attacking a bandit's hideout." She said. 

"They had arms! And weapons too, at least a few of them did." He said frustrated. "If you don't think I can fight then fight me." 

"What?" She said. 

"Fight me! You want to see if I can fight, then fight me and see." He said. 

"We don't have time." She said. 

"You can't attack until dark and if you'd quit stalling it would be over by now." He said. 

"No. My decisions not up for debate." She said. 

"But your reasons are." He said his voice getting louder. "You cannot question my honor like that! You can't accuse me of neglecting my responsibilities, of not being able to carry out my duties, without giving me a way to defend myself." 

She looked taken back. "I didn't…" 

"You did. That's exactly what you did." He said angry. 

"I'm not fighting you." She said, determined but weary. 

"No, you won't fight me because you know I'll win." He said with sudden understanding. "Because this isn't about if I can fight or not. You don't want me to go with you." 

"Alistair…" She said. 

"If it was about my ability to fight you'd fight me, because you'd want me to go if I could, but you don't." He said crestfallen. "Well, at least you can admit that, and not question my honor." He didn't wait for a reply and walked out of the camp. 

Kathryn turned to the others. "Let's go." 

59.5 Leliana 

Leliana waited till Kathryn and the rest had left camp, then she followed Alistair. As she made her way close to the stream, she could hear the sound of wood splintering, and followed it. She found Alistair beating a dead tree, viciously, with a large stick. Finally the stick shattered. He threw the remains down and then sat against the tree, holding his head in his hands. As she stepped into his view, he looked up. 

"Are you all right?" She said. 

"No, not really." He said. 

"At least you showed that tree whose boss." She said. "Did it help?" 

"No." He said. 

She sat next to him. "I want to say something helpful, hopeful. Something that doesn't sound trite but for all my training as a bard, I can't think of a single thing." 

"Not sure there is anything to say, to be honest." He said resigned. "If this is how she wants it, nothing I can do, but stop trying." 

"You can't do that!" She said. "You know she loves you. We all know it. She has gone through something I can't even imagine and don't want to. Maybe she isn't handling it in the best way but she will eventually get through it. Then she will come back to you. You know this." 

"Maybe. But if it's easier to just block it all out or maybe she'll want to wait till the blight is over to deal with it and what if we don't survive? And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Maybe she can just shut down but I can't." He said. 

Leliana took his hand. "I wish there was something I could do." 

Alistair squeezed her hand. He turned and looked at her for a long moment and then took her chin in his hand. "Actually, there is." He said and then leaned in and kissed her. 

Maker! She had forgotten what an exceptional kisser he was. 

59.6 Kathryn 

Kathryn and the rest had found the ambush site and then discovered the bandit's hideout. All in all, it had been a good raid. The bandits were all dead or dispersed, the camp was wrecked and unusable, they had taken all the loot worth taking. Tomorrow they would go to the village to claim their reward. It was late and the rest retired for the night. She put the stuff they could use away, sold the rest and then recorded everything in her journal. It felt good to lose herself in the normal tasks, performing those simple things, she nearly forgot all about… 

She heard a noise coming from the stream. What could possibly be… She froze. She couldn't breathe. The sound got closer. She didn't sense anything, but still… She stared into the darkness. She should get her weapons, she should wake the others, she should run, but she just stared. Alistair and Leliana emerged. Kathryn took a deep breath, relieved, but then she thought, it was late, very late. What could they possibly be doing out there this time of night? 

"Oh, hello." Leliana said when she saw Kathryn. "How did the fight with the bandits go?" 

"Fine. Good even. We'll claim the reward tomorrow." Kathryn said. 

"That's... good. Umm… well, good night." She said and disappeared into her tent but not before casting a final look back at Alistair, who was watching her and then without saying anything to Kathryn, started towards their tent. 

"Alistair." Kathryn said. He stopped and turned back to her. "Can I speak to you a moment?" 

"Look, if this is about before…" He started. 

"What were you and Leliana were doing out in the woods this late at night?" She asked, her voice with a hard edge to it. 

"Not that it's any of your business but… talking." He said without any emotion at all. In fact, he seemed very… relaxed. 

"It's dangerous out there this time of night." She said. "You couldn't talk by the fire." She had to stay calm but something very close to panic was creeping up on her. He wouldn't... things had been tense sure... but he... they... Oh Maker! 

"Could have, I suppose, but not as… private." He said. Several moments passed. "If that's all, I'm tired and would…" 

"Did you lie with her?" She blurted out. She knew she shouldn't say that and not like that, that she shouldn't accuse him of something like that on so little. She expected surprise at the question, indignation and a shocked denial, but he only smiled. 

"I wouldn't figure you'd care either way, since you apparently no longer wish to have anything to do with me." He said. 

"I wouldn't care..." She said much louder than she meant to. She lowered her voice. "…care that you betrayed me!" 

"Betrayed you!" He said. "You went into battle without me!" 

"You're equating lying with someone to fighting in battle?" She asked unbelieving. 

"Yes! I am!" He said and meant it. "You said you never wanted to draw your blade without me at your side and you… you just… left me here!" 

"Did... you... lie with her?" She said. 

He took a deep breath. "No. No, I didn't." He said calmer. "Until you tell me differently, we are still together and that means something to me." 

Kathryn heard the pain and anger in his voice, the accusation in his tone. She took a couple deep breaths. "I just need some time." 

"For what?" He said. "I thought you said you were fine. That you were fine with everything that had happened. Saying you need time, implies that there is something wrong… that you need time to deal with. Is there… something wrong?" 

"No." She said again feeling the panic creep back. "I'm... fine." 

"You can't have it both ways, Kathryn." He said frustrated. "Either something is wrong or it isn't. So which is it?" 

Kathryn was having trouble catching her breath. "I said I'm… fine. I am. I… have to be." Alistair looked at her curiously. She continued but her voice wasn't quite as steady. "It was just a dream. A bad dream that I had and woke up from and will be forgotten in time. It didn't even happen. It wasn't real." 

"Except that it was real." He said. "If I would have gotten killed, I would have died, and you… you didn't know you were dreaming. The mage tricked you. If I hadn't told you were dreaming, you'd have been trapped in that dream maybe... forever." 

"You could have... but I..." Her head seemed full of cobwebs, she could barely comprehend what he was saying. "And I... would still be... I..." 

Alistair considered. "You don't know what happened, do you?" He looked away and shook his head. "No, I guess you wouldn't." He turned back to her. "You didn't just wake up from the dream, even after I told you were dreaming. You couldn't understand me, remember. You do remember that, don't you?" 

"But I… I did wake up." She said more confused. 

"Yes, but that's because I… I killed you." He said. 

"What?" She said. 

"I… I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't make you understand. I couldn't force you to wake up." He said. "If you died in that dream, there was a good chance we'd both be trapped, but I couldn't leave you like that, at least then they couldn't… hurt you." He looked away. 

"You… Oh Maker." She said. 

"Jowan was supposed to pull me out of the dream if you woke up. I waited and hoped… I prayed that you'd wake up, that he'd pull me out. But... he didn't and they were coming. I… I wasn't going to let them catch me." He said. 

Kathryn swallowed hard. "I didn't know." She said her voice weak, barely above a whisper. 

He looked back to Kathryn. "No, you didn't because every time I tried to tell you... you'd walk away. You'd say that it was just a dream, it wasn't real, that it hadn't happened and none of it mattered." 

"I thought I'd failed you. That I'd failed you, and Ferelden, and the Grey Wardens, everyone. I had risked everything, to try and bring you back and I thought I had failed." He took several steps towards her. 

"And in a way I did. I didn't bring you back, not completely. You're not you. You are not fine, Kathryn. There is no way in the Maker's world that you can be. I saw what happened to you." She looked down. 

"But even now you can't admit it, can you? Why is it so hard for you to admit you need help? Would you really rather shut down, shut everyone out, including me?" He said. "Kathryn, look at me." She raised her eyes. "I can't help you if you won't let me." She looked away. "But I forgot, you're fine and you don't need any help. All right, I'll tell you what, you do something for me, and I'll never mention it again." 

"What?" She said weary. 

"Say 'broodmother'." 

Kathryn's eyes widened. Her heart stated to race as all the air was pulled out of her lungs. "You can't… ask me…" 

"Why not?" He said. "If you're fine with it, then you should be able to say it. If you can't, then you have to see… you have to admit that something's wrong. You can't deny it, not anymore. Kathryn, even Hespith could say it." 

Kathryn could feel her hands start to shake. She could feel the panic, the fear, and the despair threatening to overtake her. She had kept them away through a delicate balance of denial but it was all falling apart. She felt that she was sinking or drowning, that the sky itself was pressing down upon her. Everything was threatening to spin out of control. Only by the thinnest strands was she holding on. She felt that at any moment, her mind would simply snap. 

"How did her rhyme go? 'First day they come and catch everyone.'" He said. 

"NO!" She screamed and rushed towards him. He thought she meant to hit him and grabbed her wrists as she brought them to his face. But then he realized that she was trying to cover his mouth, stop him from saying anymore. 

"No! Please, don't! Please. Don't say it. Please. You can't. Please. Please, don't." She said frantic. She bowed her head and then pulled her arms back, wrapping them around her head, trying to block out the sounds only she could hear. Her body shuddered and then she started to crumple as her strength gave out. 

Alistair grabbed her as she fell, pulled her back up and held her to him. He could feel her body tense as he put his arms around her but she didn't resist. She began to sob into his shoulder, mumbling things he couldn't understand. Then she grabbed him. Her fingers digging into him, holding on as though her life depended on it. 

He held her tighter and whispered to her over and over. "I'm here. It's all right. I'm here. I'm here." As he started to cry. 

Chapter 60: Twenty-Fourth Camp Part IV 

60.1 Alistair 

Alistair wrapped the blanket around Kathryn. He sat down facing her on the bank of the stream. He took out the brandy, opened the bottle and handed it to her. Her eyes were red and puffy, tears still occasionally spilled out of her eyes and slowly made their way down her face. She didn't even bother trying to wipe them away anymore. Her hands were still shaking slightly and she had to hold the bottle in both hands. 

"Thank you." She said with a weak smile. It was the first one he had seen from her since the nightmare. 

She was herself again. She was Kathryn again, his Kathryn. She was shattered, wounded, hurting, beaten and battered, struggling to put words or even thoughts together. She was an emotional wreck, exhausted mentally and physically, but she was herself. 

He had held her in his arms for a long time. Then when she had calmed, she had taken his hand and headed towards the stream. When they got here she had nearly collapsed at the bank, taking a long drink and then splashing her face with the cold water, letting it run over her head and through her hair. 

"It… it's… nice… here. Quiet." She said and took another sip. 

"It is." He said. He reached out and touched her hand with the back of his fingers. She tensed but didn't jump or pull away. 

She took another sip of the brandy. "Not the… kind you like." She said. 

Alistair nearly laughed and then had to look away for a moment. For the last week he could have been walking around the camp with a greatsword sticking through him and she wouldn't have noticed, so intent was she on ignoring him and now… now she noticed that this wasn't the kind of brandy he liked. 

"No, I… I didn't have enough coin to buy the other, so I had to get the cheap stuff." He said. 

"You… you said you'd… rather not have any… than the cheap stuff." She said. 

"I know. I did say that. I… I just needed some… to help me sleep." He said. 

She looked at the bottle and noted the portion of it empty. "But you… you drank it… today." 

"Yes, I… just needed… some." He looked down. 

She looked down her eyes again filled with tears. "That's... my... my fault... I… I'm… so sorry." She whispered. 

He should just let it go, talk about it later, when she was better. He tried to bite the words back but couldn't. "Why?" He said. "Why did you ignore me after… that night? I know it was... is... hard for you but… why did you shut me out like that?" He asked. "Why did it come to... this?" 

She shook her head and looked into the sky and then said. "Because I... I thought the only way I... could get through this was by pretending it didn't happen... ignoring it... until I forgot all about it. I thought I could... so... stupid... and then... and then things would... go back to the way they were before. But... each time I saw you, I remembered…" She stopped and looked away. "No... that's not it... well, not exactly... not all of it. I didn't want to feel... anything. I couldn't stand it. I didn't think I'd... survive it. Still not sure... So, I shut down just... like you said." 

"But why ignore me? Why shut me out?" He said. 

"Because I... I can't not care about you." She said. "I see you... and all these feelings come up. I can't stop them. If I felt anything... all those memories came back. So I... I avoided you." She sighed. "It was cowardly and selfish... and I'm so sorry. After all you did... for me to do... it was… unforgivable. I don't know why you did... why you still tried to help... why you're still here... why you'd want to... be with me after all that." 

"You forgave me for something as bad if not worse, remember." He said. "You at least have the excuse of being tortured, I'm just an idiot." She smiled at him. He continued. "Then, of course, there is the fact that I love you." 

"And I... I love you." She whispered. She took a deep breath, struggling to maintain control of herself. "So… what… what happens now?" 

"I don't know." He said. "But it would seem that what you were doing, not talking or even thinking about what happened wasn't working. So maybe we do the opposite. If you don't want to talk or think about something, we talk about it. If you feel you can't face something, we face it. Maybe we start there." 

"And you?" She said. 

"I don't know that either." He said. "We'll deal with that when we get there." 

"I… I don't know… if… I… I'll try." She sighed. "Where… where do we… start?" 

"Maybe we start with that night." He said. "Tell me… everything." 

She grimaced and then nodded. "All right." 

60.2 Alistair 

Kathryn was sleeping. Alistair sat next to her and watched her. They had talked a long time, but finally as the dawn broke, her mind and body had given out. 

She had told him about the dream, about what had happened before he had got there. He could understand why she had tried so hard to forget about it and also why she had failed. It had been difficult for her, to tell him, to face all of it again but she had gotten through it. She had told him how she was constantly afraid now, in a way she had never been before, even as child; about the sense of hopelessness and despair she couldn't shake; the visions and sounds, the sensations from that night that were always with her and how each shadow and unexplained noise, how each touch recalled them. 

She said it had broken her. That she had tried to ignore it, pretend it hadn't happened as a way to keep herself together, but it hadn't worked. She had surrendered to the pain and the despair. She had given up, given in, all the things she had said she would never do. She felt numb inside. She had lost all sense of herself, of who and what she was. She felt like there was nothing left of her, that they had taken everything. 

"No, that's not true." He said. "They didn't break you." 

"They did." She said. 

"No, they didn't." He said. "Listen to me. You didn't break. You never lost yourself, never forget who you were. They did the worst thing imaginable to you and you are wounded and it will take time for you to heal, granted, but you never gave in, you never gave up. You didn't surrender to them." 

"How can you say that?" She said. "I nearly killed you." 

"Because you didn't." He said. "I know you never forgot who you were because you remembered me. You may not have known my name or been able to understand anything I said, but you still knew me. If you had given up, given in, if they had truly broken you, who I was wouldn't have mattered to you. But it did. When it came down to it, when you had the chance, you fought back. You attacked them to try to protect me. And that is what's important, that's what proves that they didn't break you, that there is a part of you they couldn't touch, the fact that you fought back. Whether you win or not is not the point, it's that you fight, that you keep fighting, you never stop fighting and you fight till the end." 

She had looked thoughtful after that, as though considering what he had said. He just hoped it had been the right thing. He was exhausted himself. It had been a long day but it portended better ones and for that he was grateful. He grabbed the bottle of brandy. It was morning, way too early for this but he was going to sleep a while. Just one to calm down so that he could sleep. He took a drink and then another larger one. He laid down next to her and was soon asleep. 

60.3 Zevran 

"Zevran! Zevran!" Leliana called to him as he stepped out of his tent. "Did you hear what happened last night?" 

"If you are referring to what happened between Alistair and Kathryn, yes. I was awake and heard it all." He could tell that Leliana was slightly disappointed at not getting to tell the tale again but then glad to have someone to validate her story. "I was just telling them." He could see Wynne, Sigrun and Jowan around her, captivated by her tale. She was truly a bard, at her finest in front of an audience. 

"Wow. He killed her to save her from being turned into one of those… and then he was forced to kill himself. Wow! That's… wow!" Sigrun said. 

"Yes, it is. Isn't it?" Jowan said thoughtful. Zevran could see the disappointment in Jowan's face and voice, and the resignation. He had realized what the rest of them had. That while all of them in some way loved both Kathryn and Alistair what they shared would not easily be broken and while it was a beautiful thing, the kind spoken of in the songs of the bards, it could also be a hard and terrible thing that not all are strong enough to endure. 

"I can't imagine what she went through and I don't want to." Sigrun said somber. 

"Such an experience will leave a scar. I fear for both of them." Wynne shook her head. "I was afraid something like this might happen." 

"You were afraid she would get trapped in a nightmare by tainted blood mages in which she was turned into a maker of darkspawn and that he would then enter the dream and be forced to kill her and then himself!" Zevran said. "Your foresight is amazing, my dear." 

"No, of course not." Wynne said. "I didn't mean this situation specifically. I meant that their bond, while making them stronger both individually and together might, if something went badly, either between them or to one of them, might weaken them to a devastating degree." 

"While their relationship is wonderful in its own right, when seen in relation to the blight is a gamble. For while the best result would be achieved if they can see this through together, if they cannot then it will be worse than if they had never been together at all. You may call me old and pessimistic but in my experience it is rare that the best case scenario is the one that happens." Wynne said. 

"But you cannot live your life that way, expecting the worst and not risking your heart for fear of loss and pain." Leliana said. 

"My dear, I'm not asking them to but to keep their mission and duty foremost in mind. I feared that they would risk their duties and responsibilities to save and protect the other, that their relationship becomes more important than the blight." Wynne said. 

"The truth is that he should not have gone after her. We are fortunate they came out of it as well as they did but it could have been much worse. If they had perished, then Ferelden would be doomed, and perhaps even the rest of Thedas. He betrayed his responsibilities and his duty and thousands may have died because of it. Even now his emotions have caused him to push her into an emotional state in which she may not be able to lead effectively. She was ignoring him and hurting him but functional as a leader, but while they seemed to have fixed their relationship, her ability to lead effectively may be compromised." Wynne said. 

"But things could not stay as they were, she was functional, yes but not herself, barely even a person. I have seen tavern benches with more personality than she displayed these last days. You are not saying that is better than the current situation." Zevran said. 

"No, that could not continue indefinitely. I know that this is not something that can be ignored for any length of time, it will demand to be dealt with, but he may have pushed her into confronting it before she was ready. There may have been a good reason she was not dealing with it yet. At times one has to ignore feelings or numb pain until the body and even the mind is ready to confront it." Wynne said. "Perhaps it might have been better for her to deal with it slowly, a piece at a time instead of all at once, instead of being overwhelmed by it. And that might have been better for the mission to, in that she could have remained an effective leader as she worked through it." 

"He forced her into it not necessarily because it was best for her but him. They both have a duty and that must come first. Them being well, is best, yes, of course, but if they are making decisions based on emotion and feeling and... well, that may not be best for Ferelden and then it will not matter what is best for them." Wynne said. 

60.4 Leliana 

Leliana had collected the reward from the keeper of the Chanter's Board and now it was time to do some serious shopping. Sigrun had decided to come with her and she was glad. She hadn't had much chance to get to know her, but liked what she had seen so far. She was also interested in her thoughts about their companions, especially Oghren and Zevran, who was paying an exorbitant amount of attention to her. 

Also she suspected that being from Dust Town and a member of the Legion she had need of personal items, socks, small clothes, warmer underlayers to deal with the Ferelden weather, things for her hair or perhaps a haircut might be in order, not to mention a few feminine luxuries, such as makeup and perfume. As she walked by a merchant's stall she thought, that the dress on display would be perfect for Sigrun. She would have to ask if they had such in dwarf sizes. 

"Can I ask you something?" Sigrun said as they waited for the merchant to finish with another customer. 

"Of course." Leliana said. 

"Why would Kathryn think that you and Alistair had, you know, been together, last night? It seemed a pretty big jump to get to that conclusion. I mean… if you know and don't mind telling me?" She said. 

Good question. Leliana thought. She liked her more and more by the minute it seemed. "No, I don't mind. There are very few secrets in this camp, you'll find that out soon enough, worse than a bunch of fishwives and I include myself in that as one of the worst." She said with a smile. "But the reason is that, Alistair and I were together for a while before the two of them were." 

"Ooh. So you two had... already." Sigrun said. 

"Oh no! We never did that." Leliana said. 

"Why not?" Sigrun asked. "I mean, he's good looking and it isn't like he can't. He does with Kathryn or at least Zevran said they do." 

And he would know. Leliana thought. "Well, we both wanted to be with someone we were in love with and we weren't in love with each other. We cared for each other but it wasn't what either of us wanted." Leliana said. 

"Oh." Sigrun said thoughtful. "I guess in Dust Town there aren't that many requirements to be with someone, or any, in fact." Sigrun said. "There isn't a lot to do in Dust Town." 

"I understand. I have been with many… people in my life but found it is better with someone you really care for. So at this point I'm willing to wait for that." Leliana said. 

Several moments passed. "But you two have kissed, right?" Sigrun said. 

"Yes, we did that on occasion." Leliana said with a coy smile. 

"From your smile, he must have been good at it!" Sigrun said with a smile. 

"Yes, he is. Very." Leliana said. "Speaking of good…ki... men, I have noticed that you and Zevran are spending a lot of time together." 

"I... guess. He's the first elf I ever met and he's different than I thought elves would be. Not that I heard a lot about them in Dust Town but what you do hear is all about them communing with trees and frolicking in the forests, but he… isn't like that." Sigrun said. "Although he did buy me a flower yesterday. It was in a pot and I should buy him something, but I don't know what." 

"I'm sure we can think of something to get him." Leliana said. "Then of course there is Oghren." 

"Ugh, if he propositions me one more time… Do men really think that works? Being obscene, obnoxious and obtuse?" Sigrun said. 

"At times, I think they do it just because they know it will not." Leliana said. "So Zevran hasn't said anything like that to you." 

"No! He wouldn't do that, just ask someone… like that." Sigrun said. 

"You're right. He would never do anything like that." Leliana said biting back a smile. 

"Besides he's an elf and I'm a dwarf." Sigrun said. 

"I don't think Zevran puts many if any limitations on who he can be interested in." Leliana said. 

"Wait… you think he… that he's…" Sigrun said. 

Leliana shrugged. "He did buy you a flower, didn't he?" Sigrun considered. 

The merchant turned to them. "What can I do for you two today?" 

60.5 Zevran 

Zevran watched as the group returned from the village. Everyone's arms were laden with purchases, he wondered that they had thought to leave some goods in the marketplace for the other shoppers. Alistair and Kathryn had only recently returned from the stream. Alistair had just started dinner. Leliana walked up and handed him several different items Zevran hoped were edible, and would still be after Alistair cooked them. 

He had watched the two of them closely. The uncomfortable tension between them and that had permeated the camp was now gone. It was again a pleasant and relaxing place to be. Kathryn was still quiet and stared into the fire too much but now there was emotion, a sadness that was tinged with hope, instead of the emptiness that had been there before. She smiled now, a melancholy smile but one nonetheless. She looked weak, unsteady, unsure, a marked contrast to the strong picture she had conjured the day before. The facade she had created to fool everyone into thinking she was better, more in control and stronger than she was. 

Alistair, however, looked strong, calm and confident and that was no facade. Perhaps it was his strength that allowed her to be weak and recover, the strength that he had developed because of her. For while she did not seem to be in any position to lead them anywhere, he might be. They were so used to her being strong, reasonable and mature and him weaker, emotional and young but perhaps their prejudices were affecting them seeing the truth of the situation as it was now. She had given him and now he gave it back and somehow they had more than when they started. 

He thought again about what Wynne had said this morning, while he had seen the reasonableness of her words something about them wasn't right, but he couldn't place what it was. Wynne saw Kathryn as the strong and reasonable leader and Alistair as a love struck boy, willing to romantically throw his life at the feet of the woman he loved. However, Sigrun had told him that Kathryn had, at great risk to herself, allowed Jowan to sap her life force to save Alistair. Something that may surprise Wynne. It would seem that he was more important to her than she displayed, simply due to her nature and training as a noble. Wynne also didn't know that Alistair had nearly done exactly what Wynne discussed, ending their relationship so that the loss of her would not devastate him but then had, thankfully, decided against it. 

No, things are never as simple as we make them out to be. But then again, perhaps the truth of the situation was simple and it was this: while their relationship was a risk, that while together they were stronger but if torn apart they would be weaker than they would have otherwise been, there was so little chance that they could defeat the blight that the only way they had any chance at all was for them to be together. In that light, them risking their lives for each other was not a lovesick, emotional, romantic decision, or at least not totally, but the realization that they needed each other to get though this, and perhaps their extraordinary luck and good fortune in that respect showed that the Maker understood that too. 

He noticed Sigrun walking towards him but something wasn't quite right. It took him a moment or perhaps two before he realized what it was. "You cut your hair!" He said as she approached. 

She smiled in a shy sort of way. "You think it looks all right? Leliana said it looked great. See it moves when I turn my head. Watch!" Sigrun shook her head several times. 

"I… I think it look amazing!" Zevran said. "But what is important is that you like it." 

"I do! I've had the braids for longer than I can remember but this is so different. I like it a lot." She said. "The woman who cut it said that it would be easy to take care of and avoid me having helmet hair, which is very unattractive." 

"Indeed, it is a scourge upon humanity." He said. 

"Oh! I bought you something." She said. 

"What? Why?" He said surprised. 

"Because you've been so nice since I got here and you got me a flower, so here." She handed him a piece of cloth. Before he had time to examine it she said. "It's a scarf!" 

"I see that." Zevran said as he unfolded it. It was indeed a scarf made of fine wool. "I cannot accept… this must have cost… too much." He said. 

"No, it didn't. We bought a lot of stuff from that merchant. I got underlayers for my armor, small clothes, dresses, gloves and socks. We got a good deal on all of it. It's very soft and warm too. You said Antiva was warmer than Ferelden but then everywhere is probably warmer than Ferelden. And I heard elves can't grow beards, they can't can they? Well, you don't have one and I thought it would keep you warm… or warmer anyway. Do you like it?" She said. 

"I… it is simply marvelous!" He said as he wrapped it around his neck and head. It was indeed soft and quite warm. "I… thank you." Sigrun smiled. 

60.6 Leliana 

Leliana set down her bags and watched as Sigrun hurried over to where Zevran was and gave him the scarf she had bought for him. Zevran seemed truly pleased not only that she had bought him something but at the gift itself. Leliana had remembered him mentioning something about a scarf to Wynne and had done her best to steer Sigrun's thinking in that direction while allowing her to come up with the idea herself or at least think she had. It had worked brilliantly. 

"Didn't think she'd go for an elf." She heard Oghren say. 

"What? You think she likes him?" Leliana said as innocently as she could. 

"Heh! A duster spending money on someone else. Only one reason they do that." Oghren said. "Oh well." 

"You sound disappointed." Leliana said. 

"Maybe, a bit. I'd polish the old footstones with her anytime, but… well, maybe…I mean I’m sure she’s forgiven me by now." He said. 

Leliana didn't ask as she was sure she didn't want to know. She left Oghren with his thoughts and ale and walked over to where Kathryn was sitting. "Hello." She said. 

Kathryn slightly jumped and looked up from the book she wasn't reading. "Hello." She said with a small smile. 

Leliana sat down next to her and took her hand. "How are you?" 

Kathryn looked down. Her lip quivered a bit. She sniffed a few times and wiped her eye. She looked up and took a deep breath and then looked at Leliana. "Better." She said with a weak smile. 

"At least you have remembered how to smile." Leliana said. 

"Only after a lot of tears." Kathryn said. 

"That is nearly always the case, isn't it?" Leliana said. Kathryn sighed. Leliana put her arm around her. Kathryn tensed as she touched her and slightly resisted but then put her head on Leliana's shoulder. 

"You know I am here for you. Whatever you need, to talk, to not talk, to laugh or cry. I will always be here for you." Leliana said. 

Kathryn nodded. "I want to talk, but not about… that, about something else." 

Leliana considered. "I can tell you about our shopping trip." 

"Yes." Kathryn said. "Tell me all about the shopping." 

60.7 Kathryn 

Leliana had finished telling her about shopping in the market and all the stuff she had helped Sigrun buy. Then she had gotten up to help Alistair finish dinner. She had bought some spices that were supposed to improve the taste of food. While she had admitted Ferelden had many good points, it's cuisine was not one of them. 

Kathryn watched them. Everything seemed almost normal. There was a relaxed calm about the camp again. She was really beginning to believe that everything would be all... 

"Warden." Sten voice came from behind her. 

Kathryn jumped at the noise. She stood and turned to face him. "Yes, Sten." 

"You are no longer able to lead and we cannot afford to be doomed by your infirmity. Therefore I am taking over the camp." Sten drew his sword. "I do not wish to harm you and ask that you stand down." 

She heard Alistair walk up next to her and draw his sword. "If you think for one moment that..." 

"Alistair, don't." She said. "We aren't going to fight." 

"So you concede." Sten said. 

For a moment she thought about how simple it would be to just say yes and walk away from all of this, the burden, the responsibility, the horror and the struggle, to just walk away from a fight there was so little chance of winning. The night seemed heavy, the air thick and suffocating. She could hear the growling and the hideous laughter, and then screaming that she realized had been her own. She thought she could hear music, a song soft and quiet just out of her hearing. It would be so easy to listen, to get lost in the song and surrender... 

"Kathryn?" Alistair whispered. His voice, she remembered his voice drowning out the call. She remembered how he has said she hadn't given up or given in, and she realized that she was not about to give up now. She had not been broken and she would heal. She had withstood the worst experience she could imagine and survived, more than that she had fought back. There was strength in that. 

"I... will... do nothing of the kind." She said with effort as she met Sten's eyes. "May I remind you that this is not Par Volen and this isn't the Qunari army. You cannot simply 'take over' the camp, our camp." She said, her voice getting stronger with each word. "These people here owe no loyalty, no obedience other than that which they freely give. They stand with us, follow us because they have hope. They believe that together we have a chance to stop the blight before it destroys Ferelden and perhaps all of Thedas." 

"I will not fight you because it changes nothing and proves even less. I shall follow no one not of my own choosing and that does not include you. If you do not wish to stay, then I shall give you your share of the funds and supplies and you are free to leave along with anyone else that wishes to go with you." She said. 

"A bit of advice, in order to gain the trust and loyalty of the others you should tell them what your plan is to end the blight, how you intend to deal with the civil war, what army you intend to use to get through the hoard and reach the archdemon, and how you intend to defeat it." 

She took out her purse and counted out some coins and then tossed them at his feet. "There are your thirty pieces, more or less. I would suggest that you choose what you do with them wisely." She put the purse away and then stepped closer to Sten. "And one more thing, if you ever draw your blade against me or Alistair or any of those that stand with us against the Blight again, I shall rip your heart out myself." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked away. 

Alistair smiled. "That's my girl." 

Chapter 61: Twenty-Fourth Camp Part V 

61.1 Kathryn 

"It is difficult to accept that your fate may be determined by someone else and that there may be nothing you can do about it." She said. 

"It is only hard for you because you are so used to being in control." He said. "Or at least thinking you are. For me that is not a difficult concept, given that my entire life has been determined by other people." 

She considered. "I… yes… I see your point." 

He considered. "Is that why you blame yourself for the attack at Highever? Because it is easier for you to deal with the guilt than the idea that there really was nothing you could have done?" 

"Perhaps." She said thoughtful. "So, do you just accept that your life is not your own, that horrible things can happen and you have no control over them, you can do nothing to prevent or stop them? Do you somehow learn to live with the fear of all you can't control?" 

"For the most part, yes." He said. "The world is a pretty scary place, you know. But isn't that the point of courage, to be afraid and do what you must anyway? The point of hope, that in the face of the injustice and the horrors of the world you continue on, that you do not lose faith?" 

"I… suppose." She said thoughtful. "But if even with courage, hope and faith, if all you do and fight for, work and struggle for, suffer and die for, can be so easily undone and there is nothing you can do about it, then you have to consider why any sane person would even try?" 

"Because you do not know it will be undone. If you fight, if you try, then there is always a chance of success while if you don't, there is no chance at all. Besides do you want to live your life without hope, even if there isn't any?" He said. 

She smiled widely, shaking her head. "What's so funny? I thought that was rather good myself." He said. 

"It was." She said. "It's just… that every time I think that I can't possibly love or adore you any more than I do, I find out I'm wrong." 

He smiled. "Can I get that in writing?" 

"What about me being wrong?" She said. 

"I wouldn't mind having that too, but more the 'can't possibly love or adore' part." He said. 

Zevran and Jowan emerged from their respective tents. She and Alistair had taken first watch. Kathryn finished her tea. She saw Alistair take another drink of the brandy. He thought she wasn't paying attention but she was. She knew how much was left when she had given the bottle back to him today and how much was there now and they didn't match. 

He had been through a lot. He had needed her and she hadn't been there for him. She may have an excuse and perhaps no one, except herself, blamed her for it, but that didn't change the fact that he was using the brandy not to relax after dinner but as a balm to ease the pain and stress he felt and that was not good. 

She hoped that it was only a habit he had developed under these extreme circumstances and that now that she could be there for him, that after he worked through what had happened that he would go back to his occasional enjoyment of a glass. But she had a feeling, he would need help with that. 

Alistair came over and sat next to her. "They are ready to take over on watch. I… your bedroll is next to the tent. I didn't know…" 

"Right." She considered. "It just… it makes me nervous, being in there. Not with you, of course, but where I can't see what's going on. That's how it started, you know. Makes me feel… trapped." She looked up at the night sky and took a deep breath. "I don't want to go in there, so I should, shouldn't I?" 

"You should probably at least step inside. If you don't want to stay, that's fine but you should try, when you're ready." He said. 

"You know… even if I stayed… I can't… not yet… even being undressed… it's…too…" She said. 

"I know and don't worry about it. When you are, then you let me know. I'll wait. I'll wait for you. I'll wait forever if you need me to." He said with a smile. "Come on." 

They stood and after saying good night to the others, Alistair opened the flap and stepped inside. Kathryn took a few slow deep breaths and then followed him. 

The tent was as she remembered. The smell of the scented oil she had bought for Alistair greeted her. It was a nice tent, warm and dry. She looked around and then remembered how the darkspawn had come from the tents, crawling out of the shadows. She suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. "I… I…" 

"It's all right." Alistair said as he touched her arm. 

She pulled her arm back. She turned and stepped out of the tent. The crisp night air hit her. She took it in, gulping it down till her breathing returned to normal. No, she thought, this is not going to beat her, not keep her away from where she wanted to be, what she wanted to do. 

She turned and walked back into the tent. Alistair had taken off his boots and undershirt. He turned to her. "I thought I'd try again." She said. 

"Any better?" He asked. 

"Yes, actually." She said surprised. "It… it gets easier." She looked down and shook her head. 

"What?" He said. 

"The second thing I thought when I saw you standing there was that Wynne did an incredible job healing the cuts on your chest. They didn't even scar." She said and rubbed her forehead. 

"It's going to take time, you know that, right?" He said. 

"I know." She said. "But... it is going to be all right, eventually, isn't it?" 

"Yes, it is." He said. He looked at her curiously. "The second thing, you said that was the second thing you thought. What was the first?" He asked. 

She smiled a coy smile. "Damn! He's hot." 

61.2 Alistair 

Alistair was staring at the top of the tent. Kathryn was sleeping next to him. He was glad she was here with him but it was a bit unsettling in that he wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her but she was still nervous, still jumpy and he didn't want to startle or frighten her and undo all the good they had done today. 

He thought to have a drink just to help him fall asleep but he didn't want to risk waking her. So he stared at the top of the tent. He felt her fingers grace his arm. He looked over. She was still sleeping but had reached for him. Her fingers traced down his arm. When she got to his hand she took it. Alistair smiled and closed his eyes. 

He had barely drifted off when he heard her cry out. He looked up as she sat upright. Her whole body was trembling and she was gasping for air. 

"Kathryn, what is it?" He said as he sat up. 

She shook her head. She bowed her head and then put it on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair and laying his head on hers. After some time, she pulled back but stayed in his arms. 

"Are you all right?" He said. She nodded as she placed her hands on his chest, gently tracing where the wounds would be. She reached up and touched his face. "Kathryn." He said. 

"Shh…" She said as she traced his lips with her fingers. "Kiss me." He took her face in his hands and did. He pulled back and looked at her. She smiled at him. He stroked her hair and traced her jaw with his fingers and then snapped her neck. 

Alistair sat upright on the bedroll. His heart was racing, hands shaking. He couldn't breathe and was in a cold sweat. He heard Kathryn say "Alistair? What is it? What's wrong?" He looked at her laying as she had been next to him, awake and alive. He wasn't able to talk. He reached for the brandy and quickly took a drink. 

Kathryn sat up. "Alistair? What happened?" 

"Nightmare." He was able to whisper. 

He brought the bottle back up to his mouth, but Kathryn put her hand on his arm, stopping him. "Tell me." She said. He shook his head. "Tell me." 

He lowered the bottle. "We were here, sleeping and you woke up and I… I broke your neck." He said with a grimace. 

"Alistair." She said turning his head to look at her. "It's all right. It was just a dream. Okay?" 

"No, it isn't... it wasn't. It wasn't a dream. I… I did that to you." He said. "I… I killed you. I… broke your neck, heard the bone crack, saw you fall to the ground. Your eyes glassed over and you were so still. One moment you were in my arms and the next you were dead." He put his hands over his eyes, trying to blot out the memory. 

"Alistair." She said, touching his face. "You did what you had to. The only thing you could." 

"But now... now I know I can." He said. "You… you know I can. How can you…" 

"…be grateful for it." She said. He looked up to her confused. "Do you have any idea the comfort it gives me to know that you would do that for me, if it came to that?" 

"But I… can… I have… hurt people… done things… I didn't know… didn't want to… and I might… hurt you." He said. 

"No, you'd never hurt me." She said. "If I am sure of anything, it is that you would never hurt me." She stroked his hair and then gently pulled his head to her shoulder. "Come here." 

He felt her body tense as he laid his head on her shoulder. He knew he shouldn't, he should stop, refuse to take comfort in her. She wasn't ready for this, he knew that, but he couldn't stop himself. 

Immediately, he began to relax, breathing in her scent, hearing the beating of her heart, feeling her arms around him, hands holding him. He was so tired. If felt as though he hadn't slept in days. As soft blackness overtook him, he unknowingly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him, as he drifted off. 

61.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn saw what he had suffered from her nightmare, the pain and the guilt, the horror and desperation, and then the loneliness and isolation that she had put him through. She couldn't, wouldn't stand by and let him go through this alone. 

She pulled his head to her shoulder. He resisted slightly but gave in. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. Her body tensed as he touched her. She tried not to think, tried not to remember the many other hands she had felt on her, holding her, clawing at her, grabbing her. Her skin burned with the memory. 

He had risked everything to save her, made horrible choices and then dealt with them, and then suffered from her neglect, she could endure this for him. She had endured it once already and without him she would still be… that or worse. She tried to focus on him, his smell, his touch, the warmth of his skin, the strength in his arms and chest, but it was impossible. 

The memories were so strong, blotting out all else. She felt it all again as though it were happening all over, the sensations and the pain. The sounds, the growls and laughter seemed to surround her. She could feel the panic and taste the fear. This had happened before since that night, but then she had been able to ignore it by being numb to everything but now she couldn't stop it. She ground her teeth as tears filled her eyes but she refused to let him go and held him tighter. 

Then slowly the grip the memory had on her seemed to lessen. The memories and sensations seemed to fade and recede. Now she could focus on how he felt, how he touched her. His hands were gentle, caring, tender. Her body started to respond to him and relax. Other memories came to her, ones of pleasure and comfort, of passion and love. 

She had worried that she would never be able to be touched again, never be able to get past the memories of that night. She knew this was only the first step, but it was a start. She rested her head on his shoulder, weak and exhausted and closed her eyes. 

61.4 Alistair 

Alistair could tell from the light, that it was well into the day. The sun was already high in the sky. He looked down to see Kathryn's head resting on his chest, his hand on her shoulder. This was definitely not how he remembered them going to sleep, but it was a good sign. Then he remembered that he had had a nightmare and that he had rested his head on her shoulder. He tried not to move for he didn't want to wake her. It felt good, this simple intimacy. It was something he had taken for granted before, but never would again. 

She moved, and then started to stretch. She raised up and looked down to see where she was. He could see the surprise, the tensing and the slight alarm, then the realization that it was all right and the calm that followed. She looked up at him and smiled. "Good morning." 

"I'm not sure it is, might be afternoon by now." He said. 

"Close enough." She said. 

"You all right?" He said. 

She looked at him and their relative positions and then considered. "Yes, I am." 

He reached up and touched her face. It was a beautiful comfortable moment and he didn't want to ruin it but... 

"We need to get up." He said. 

"Why?" She said surprised. "Nothing we need to do. Nowhere we need to go. Not today anyway. Tomorrow he need to start to Redcliffe but not today." 

"Because if we don't… if we stay here like this… I'm… going to kiss you… and I said I wouldn't. I said that I would wait for you and I don't want to break my word and do something you aren't ready for… so we need to go." He said. 

"Oh, I see. Well, then yes, we do." She said. "Unless, of course, I want you to kiss me." 

"Do you?" He asked hopeful. 

"Yes, I… I think so." She said. 

He considered and then shook his head. "No, that's not good enough. I'll wait." He said. 

"All right." She said disappointed. "That's fair." 

"But I... I wouldn't object if you... kissed me." He said. 

"Oh." She considered and then took a deep breath and cautiously leaned forward, placing her lips close to his, nearly touching, then he saw her flinch. She pulled back slightly and closed her eyes. 

"You don't have to." He said. "Wait till you're..." 

"Shh..." She said as she touched his lips with her fingers and then leaned forward again, barely touching his lips with hers. Then she softly brought her lips to his and then she did it again harder, and then again even harder. She pulled back. "We really do need to get up." She said. 

61.5 Kathryn 

Kathryn went to the stream to wash. She had decided to follow it. After a bit she discovered a small waterfall. It was a warm day, and the water felt good, cold but good and clean. Ever since that night, she had felt dirty despite it being a dream and washing again and again. She knew it was more an emotional and mental feeling than any physical sensation. 

She was uncomfortable being undressed now. Before that night she hadn't been. Appropriately modest but not uncomfortable. Now, however, it caused her to feel vulnerable and exposed. She could easily wash a part at a time, being only partially uncovered. But her resistance to the idea of being completely undressed probably was the best indication that she should at least attempt it. 

She deliberately removed each piece of clothing, laying them off to the side. Finally she undressed completely. She stood in the warm sunlight, breathing in the calm, the quiet and the peace. 

She stepped into the falls. The water was cold, very cold. Her body reacted to the water and it felt incredible. She let the water run over her skin, through her hair and over her face, for some time. Then she carefully washed each part of her, examining them, feeling them, moving them, her hands and fingers, hands and arms, neck and shoulders, chest and stomach, back and legs, feet and toes, each muscle and joint, every inch of skin, trying to reconnect with a body that since the dream she had felt disjointed from. 

Finally she stepped out of the falls and into the sunlight. As she stood there she realized that while she was in the falls, for precious moments, she had completely forgotten about the nightmare. It was the first time that had happened since that night. Even now as the memories came back to her, their hold on her had weakened. She looked up to the bright sun and laughed. 

She took several more deep breaths and then grabbed the thick woolen blanket she had brought to use as a drying cloth. She wrapped herself in the blanket and then sat on the bank in the sun. She looked up to see Alistair standing there. 

"I… I was just…" He mumbled. 

"...watching me." She said. 

"No, no, not at all. I just got here." He said fairly convincingly but then smiled. "But… out of curiosity, if I had been doing that… which I wasn't… but if I had been… how upset would you be?" 

She smiled slightly and considered. 

He stepped forward. "I mean, if I had come out here a bit before I did, just to check on you since you had been gone for a while and I found you undressed and stepping into the waterfall, and I wasn't sure what to do. I mean I wouldn't want to disturb you or make you uncomfortable, so I might have stayed still and been very quiet…" He looked down and then back up. "...and even though I would know I shouldn't… if I had… watched you… if I had… done that… it would only be because I… I miss..." He looked away and then turned towards the camp. 

"Alistair." She called. 

"Yes." He said without turning back around. 

"If that's what had happened… if you had watched… I… I wouldn't be upset." She said. 

"That's good to know." He said and walked back to camp. 

Chapter 62: Twenty-Fifth Camp Part I 

62.1 Alistair 

Alistair was searching for his brandy. He knew he had packed it in the cart but he couldn't find it. They had packed up camp this morning and were making their way towards Redcliffe. It would take a few days to make the trip around the lake. 

But the closer they got to Redcliffe the closer they were to heading to Denerim and the closer they were to the Landsmeet and him being put forward as King of Ferelden and the more he thought about all that the more he wanted to find the brandy. 

He didn't have much time to look for it. They had only stopped for a quick break. It was still a few hours before they would have lunch, and he didn't want Kathryn to see him. She had enough to worry about, although she was doing much better. Last night, she had fallen asleep in his arms. It was almost like before, but not quite, for he knew it would never be exactly like that again. He just hoped that eventually it would be better. 

Of course, considering that he had watched her bathing earlier that day, he hadn't gotten much sleep at all. He had been afraid that she would notice how… excited he was that she was there with him and that it would make her uncomfortable and she would leave. For as tortuous as it was for her to be laying next to him and not with him, it was better than her not being there at all. His only salvation was that he was wearing his breeches to bed, just so she would be more comfortable. They provided the added benefit that they did make it a bit easier to hide his… feelings. 

No doubt all that was not helping his situation, but he would be fine, if he could just find where he put the brandy. He just needed a small drink. He had been thinking about being king. It wasn't even being king that worried him, at least not anymore. Before the very idea terrified him but now, the idea of him being king was not so terrifying. It could be an interesting future for him, in fact. 

But the Landsmeet was another story. How would they convince the nobility en mass to unseat a war hero, depose a queen who had been ruling the country for the last five years and put him on the throne? And if they failed to do all that… Dear Maker! Where was the brandy? 

"Are you looking for this?" Kathryn said from behind him. 

Damn. He turned to see her holding the bottle in her hand. "Yes, I was." He said. 

"May I ask why?" She said. 

"I was… just a… making sure that I packed it and that it hadn't fallen out of the cart or spilled or something." He said. 

"Really? Because that sounds incredibly lame." She said. "You weren't going to take a drink, were you? It's rather early for that, don't you think? I don't believe Oghren's even had anything to drink yet today." 

"What… are you saying I'm somehow worse than Oghren? Oghren? Are you actually accusing me of being some kind of… drunk?" He said. 

"No… no, I'm not." She said. 

"I was just checking on it. All right. I do that, check things, to make sure they are secure. So that stuff doesn't fall out of the cart and we don't end up losing half our supplies on the road." He said. 

"Alistair, please don't shut me out." She said. "I tried that. It doesn't work, remember." He looked away, rubbing his forehead. She continued. "I'm not judging. I have no right. You went through something horrible. I know. In some ways it was worse than what I did. You had to make decisions, do terrible things, and I know that's still with you. It has to be." 

"But you have to know that this doesn't help. This isn't what this is for. You even thinking about it this early in the day is not a good sign, you have to see that." She handed the bottle back to him. He looked at her confused. "I'm not taking it away from you. You aren't a child. But I've watched you and this isn't you. You don't need this. You've never needed it before. This isn't how you handle things." 

She sighed. "I know I wasn't here for you the way I should have been. I am sorry and I wish I had been able to be. But, Alistair, I am here now. You pleaded with me to allow you to help me and now I'm begging you to let me help you. I mean, isn't that how it's suppose to work? That when you are with someone you help each other through things?" 

"That's what I've heard." He said softly. 

"So, can we try that? Can you talk to me about whatever it is? Can we try to work through it together? Can we just get rid of that horrible stuff and get you a bottle of the kind you like?" She said. 

"Yes." He said with a sigh. "We can… do that." He looked at the bottle. "It really is horrible, isn't it?" 

"Yes, it is." She said. He opened the bottle and poured it out. 

"So, can we start by you telling me what it was that caused you to go looking for that?" She said. 

He decided to skip the part about how watching her wash the day before and then having her sleep in his arms had caused him to spend most of the night having a hard… time sleeping and went straight to the direct cause. "The Landsmeet." He said. 

"You worried about being king." She said. 

"No, not so much being king as becoming king." He said. "The more I think about the fact that we have to convince a group of nobles to depose Anora and unseat her father to put me on the throne, the more I think that the most likely outcome is that we will all end up with our heads on pikes." 

"That's probably true." She said. 

"Not helping." He said. 

"But it's the best option we have, and we don't know for certain that we'll end up with our heads on pikes. It might work. Stranger things have happened, haven't they?" She asked unsure. 

"That makes me… really sorry I poured the brandy out." He said. 

"You and me both." She said and then smiled. 

"We have a duty, but really it isn't about that anymore. This world, with all its horrors and wonders, all its pain and sorrow and joy and… love, it is worth fighting for. It's worth dying for and more important, it's worth living for. We fight and we keep fighting and we fight till the end and we hold on to the hope that we will see the other side of it, because that's all we have and all we can do." She looked away and then shrugged and looked back to him. "Unless, of course, you want to run away to Orlais, live in sin and eat cake instead?" 

"Hmmm… I like that idea." He said with a smile. "But then again the darkspawn would catch up to us eventually." 

"True, but we could eat a lot of cake before then." She said. "Something to think about." 

62.2 Alistair 

Alistair looked up at the sky. They were making good time. They had been by the tower docks and taken the east route around the lake. If the weather held, they could be at Redcliffe in a day or so. 

Then he felt it. The sensation that told him that darkspawn were near. For a moment he didn't believe that they could possibly be this far north. He stopped and looked around, but everything looked normal and still. However, the feeling was clear, weak but getting stronger and quickly. 

He turned to Kathryn to confirm that she sensed it too and give her his suggestion of where they should set for the attack, because he knew that was what was coming. If they had been able to sense the darkspawn, then the darkspawn would be able to sense them and would come after them. 

Kathryn was pale, white as milk, breathing hard with eyes wide. She looked lost. She should be barking out orders, getting everyone prepared, but she just stood there. She looked to him and he could see that she was terrified. She shook her head and then looked away. 

He could talk her through it, help her get over the fear that was crippling her, but they didn't have time. He took a deep breath, and looked around. Everyone had stopped and were watching them, waiting for instruction, expecting guidance, needing someone to tell them what to do, to lead them. It was up to him. He hadn't done much more than follow a map to a camp site, and now… he felt the fear for a moment and then it was gone, replaced with... something else. 

"Everyone, we are about to be attacked by darkspawn. We are going to make our stand there on the paved stone. Put the cart over there. Wynne, Jowan, Morrigan and Leliana up there. We only have a few minutes, hurry." He said. 

They quickly made their way to spot he had indicated and began to take up their positions. 

Alistair considered. "There is one group, about two dozen, that's… that's too many. We… can't just let them attack. We… we need a plan." He saw the worried looks as he tried to think. "Oghren, Sigrun, we are going to charge through the group when they attack, get on the other side and attack from there. Of course, that's if Sten thinks he can hold them." 

Sten growled. 

"I thought that's what you'd say." He turned back to the rest. "Jowan, hit the group with something nasty right before they get here, soften them up a bit. I'll tell you when to get ready." Alistair said. 

"Will do." Jowan said. 

"Then Leliana, we'll need a path through." Alistair said. 

"Got it." She said. 

"Zevran stay with Sten and make sure none get to the cart." Alistair said. 

"Of course." Zevran said. 

"Morrigan you assist Sten, everyone he attacks or attacks him gets weakened or disoriented or whatever else you do. Anyone has to fall back then do that icky spider/bear thing you do." He said. 

"I do not believe…" She started to say. 

"Morrigan, I didn't ask and we don't have time." Alistair said. "They're coming." 

They got into positions and held… waiting… there was no sound… nothing… all was quiet and still… 

62.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn could feel them as they got closer. It was a buzzing inside her head, like bugs, hundreds of them crawling inside her skull. 

They were coming. The darkspawn had sensed them and were coming after them. She needed to think, to get them ready to fight, to lead the group when they attacked, but the growling, their laughter, rang in her ears. It drowned out everything else, except the growing panic. 

The sky seemed to weigh down on her. She felt as though she were in a cave or hole, buried with walls bearing down on her. She had to get out of there. Without realizing it, she began to back away. She was disoriented and confused. She stepped and turned, not knowing where she was or where she was going. 

Then she felt the ground, the stone of the highway, give way. She slid on the broken rock and lose gravel, down into some kind of pit along the side of the highway. She tried to climb up, but she only slid back down. She had to get a grip on herself. She had to think. She was lost and didn't know where the others were. She had to find another way out. 

Then she heard the laughter again, but this time it wasn't ringing in her ears but coming from behind her. She turned to see an alpha walking towards her. 

62.4 Alistair 

"Jowan, get ready." Alistair said. 

"But there isn't…" Jowan started. 

"Jowan!" 

"On it." Jowan said as he started to cast. Just as he finished preparing the spell, the darkspawn burst through the ground and attacked. 

"Jowan, now!" Alistair yelled. He felt the blood magic as it hit the darkspawn. Some fell, others stood twitching violently, still others, simply didn't move at all. "Leliana!" Arrows started flying at a blistering pace, as the darkspawn before them fell one after another, each with an arrow in their hearts or heads. "Oghren go!" 

"About time!" Oghren said as he charged, battleaxe cutting a swath through the group. 

"Sigrun, follow me." He took a last look to see Sten charging the group, as Zevran popped in and out of sight. He hurried after Oghren, blocking and bashing until all three were on the other side of the group. They turned and attacked the darkspawn, pressing them between them. 

Within a few minutes it was over. Over two dozen darkspawn lay dead. Alistair looked around. He couldn't sense any more, but he didn't think that was all of them either. "Everyone all right?" He asked. He got a chorus of nods and yes's. He also saw that the looks of worry had disappeared. They were actually impressed. He had taken charge, formulated a plan, executed the plan, given orders that had been followed, and by the Maker, it had worked! They had beaten a group of nearly three times their number with no casualties. He had to admit, it felt good. 

"Alistair!" Leliana yelled. Alistair jumped up onto the cart where she was standing. "There." She pointed to the other side of the road. "It's Kathryn." 

62.5 Kathryn 

Kathryn couldn't move, couldn't breathe. She couldn't even think. She just watched as the alpha swung at her. Instinctively, she dodged, turning away from the attack and backing up. But she was trapped, the only escape on the other side of the alpha. She reached for her daggers but she had lost them in the fall. It swung at her again. She was able to dodge but as she turned the blade aside, it stepped forward and hit her in the face, busting her lip. She could taste the blood as it ran down her chin. She stumbled back, unsteady. 

It hurried to her and hit her again, she felt the blow to the side of her face. Her vision blurred. She tried to regain her footing but then it hit her in chest, knocking her back and to her knees. As her vision cleared, she saw it raise its sword and strike. She could only raise her arms to defend herself, the gauntlets dulled and deflected the blow, but the force of it broke her arm. She felt the intense pain and then the nausea. As it pulled the sword back, she was able to roll away, and gain a shaky footing. But there was nowhere for her to go. The alpha laughed and raised its sword. 

62.6 Alistair 

Alistair looked to where Leliana was pointing. Kathryn was in some kind of pit on the other side of the highway, and she was being attacked by an alpha. He watched as it struck her in the face. Leliana drew her bow and took aim at the alpha. Alistair reached over and put his hand on the string. "Wait." 

"What? But she is… Why?" Leliana said stunned. 

"She can take one alpha, but she isn't. She's letting it beat her. She… she needs to do this herself... we have to give her a chance to… fight back." He watched the alpha strike her with the sword and heard the bone crack. 

Leliana took aim. "Alistair!" She said. 

"Not yet." He said as the alpha raised its sword. 

62.7 Kathryn 

Kathryn watched the sword of the alpha being raised above her, and mainly she felt relief. There would be no more Blight, no more fighting, no more running. She had been running ever since the attack at Highever, for months upon months now, and there was so much more to do. Their goal only slightly closer than it was then. 

She did not fear death, no matter what it held, if they returned to the Maker or simply wandered the fade or if there is nothing beyond. She had never been afraid of anything before… now everything frightened her, except, it seemed… death. She was so tired of being afraid. Part of her wanted nothing more than for it all to be over. 

She wondered if this was why she had left the safety of the group. She knew they could sense her, that a powerful, intelligent darkspawn would find her. Had she hoped for this very thing? To be attacked, so that she could allow herself to be killed? Is this what she wanted… to die? So that there would be no more fear, no more sorrow and no more pain? 

What about the promise she had made to her father to fight the Blight, to do her duty? The oath she took as a Grey Warden? Gaining revenge on Howe? Justice for all those that died at Ostagar? What of all those that would suffer and die if the Blight was not stopped? 

And what of Alistair? He has risked his life and more to save her from the nightmare. Would she so easily throw away that which he had risked everything for? She had let Jowan drain her life to give it to him, because she loved him, yes, but also because she did not want to go on without him. Did he feel the same? Is that why he came after her? 

How could she stand before him and admit that she had abandoned him, again, out of her own weakness? Was she really willing to give up all they had? All they still could have? She had gotten through the worst of it. He had forced her through the worst of it, but she hadn't really had a choice in that. Now, she did. Now, it was her choice. To live or die? To fight or surrender? Had she not just told him that this world was worth fighting for, dying for but more important worth living for? Were those words empty or did she truly believe them? 

She didn't know the answers. She remembered when Alistair had asked her to lie with him that she hadn't known what she would say until she heard herself say it. Now, as she watched the blade make its way to her, she realized that she would know all the answers when she saw what she did now. 

She watched and waited. 

The blade came towards her. She hit the side of the sword with her hand as she turned away from it, causing it to miss her and drive into the rock behind. It threw the alpha off balance. She pulled her hand back and struck it in the chest. It staggered back. She stepped to it, hitting it again in the head with the side of her fist. It fell to its knees. She stomped on the hand holding the sword breaking the alpha's wrist, then kicked it in the chest. It fell back onto the ground. She picked up the sword and ran it through, burying the blade nearly a foot into the ground. 

She heard a noise and looked up. Alistair jumped into the pit and walked up to her. "You all right?" He asked. 

She looked back to the alpha, thought about her black eye, busted lip, broken arm, bruised face and chest. She smiled and looked back to him. "I am now." She said. 

He smiled. "You'll need these then." He said as he handed her daggers back to her. "There are more on the way, a lot more." They made their way to the other side of the pit and climbed out. Wynne walked up to her and gave her a potion. She drank it as blue and then white light flowed from Wynne's hand into Kathryn's arm. The rest gathered around them. 

"This is the main group, at least three dozen. We'll hold the same position. But we have to stay together. Any one gets separated from the rest, they will surround and swarm them, take them down in moments. " Alistair said and then considered. "Oghren, Sten, we'll take first line, Sten take vanguard. That will keep them focused on the middle and they won't try to flank us. Sigrun, stay with Sten. Zevran back up Oghren. But make sure none of them attack the cart. Kath… I mean…" He turned embarrassed to Kathryn, who was looking at him with eyes wide. "I didn't mean to… I was just…" 

"…handing out orders." She said and then smiled. "You were saying…" 

"Um… just that… you could start with the bow on the cart and then when they got close, back me up… you know, like always." He said. 

"Will do." She said and climbed up on the cart next to Leliana. 

Alistair smiled, noting that not only had she not overruled him, but had not reissued the orders or even adopted them, but let them stand as his orders. He got into position as the rest got set. 

"Get ready!" Alistair said. "Jowan, need something big." 

"Got it." Jowan replied and started to cast. 

"Morrigan, if someone up front falls back, you cover them and keep the darkspawn off the cart." Kathryn said. 

"Indeed." Morrigan said. 

"Zevran and Sigrun, you are each other's back up." Alistair said. 

"Leliana, Jowan, on my mark." Kathryn said as she drew her bow. 

"Oghren, Sten, on mine." Alistair said as he put on his helmet. 

They waited. Everything was still and then they heard them. 

"Here they come!" Kathryn said. 

Chapter 63: Twenty-Fifth Camp Part II 

63.1 Zevran 

Zevran finished his dinner. It was only now getting dark. They had made camp just past where they had battled the darkspawn. While they had come through with surprisingly few injures the battle had been hard fought and they were all tired, but not sleepy. After everyone got settled and the night's chores were completed, he would see who was up for cards. He got another mug full of ale and sat back and watched the group. 

Sigrun got her bowl full and walked over to where Zevran was sitting and sat down next to him. Perhaps he might try to get a game of strip poker going, after a few rounds of cards and ale but then he thought the better of it. Oghren might wish to play or worse… Sten. Not that he wasn't curious about the attributes of the Qunari but after a woman saw what there was probably there to see, well, there wouldn't be much that could impress them. 

He would just have to think of another way to get Sigrun out of her armor. Generally, he didn't have a problem with getting someone out of their clothing but Sigrun was… different. And after her being subjected to Oghren's advances, he would have to play this out carefully and subtly. 

"Leliana thinks that you like me." Sigrun said. 

"She does, does she?" Zevran said as casually as he could, containing his surprise. He had not thought his... intentions had been so obvious. 

"And not just like me, because you obviously like me but like 'like me' like me." She said. 

"Oh, I see." Zevran said. 

"I didn't think so, considering that you're an elf and I'm a dwarf. I wouldn't think an elf would, you know… 'like' a dwarf. I would think that most people would prefer their own race. I mean, isn't that kind of thing is looked down upon by… well, everyone?" She said quickly and a bit nervously. "And even if you might be... you know... interested, there is the fact that I'm a member of the Legion of the Dead. It isn't like there would be a future there or anything." 

"All you say is true." Zevran said thoughtful. "But I learned very quickly to take my pleasures wherever they could be found, with few if any limits placed on where that might be, for as you are well aware such pleasures do not come very often. It is enough that my interest is... aroused by someone." He said. "I have tried to make the best of whatever situation I find myself in, stealing what moments of pleasure I can. I ask no more than what someone is willing to give and treasure what time I may have with them and be satisfied with it. As an assassin and one being hunted by other assassins, I do not have much to offer beyond the moment, after all." 

Zevran took another drink of his ale. "But if my interest were so aroused, the question then becomes if you are so inclined. And if we are both so disposed, I see no reason we should not enjoy each other's… company. This need not be anything complex after all." 

Sigrun looked thoughtful and then stared into the night sky. "When you join the Legion, they tell you not to get too attached to the other members because no one stays in the Legion very long, if you know what I mean. But I… couldn't. I cared… about all of them. I can't… not care, even just to have fun, even when it would be better not to. And given the situation, maybe more because of the situation, if something happened with someone for whatever time it was, it would have to mean something, mean a lot, in fact or else, it just… wouldn't be worth it." 

"I see." Zevran said. 

He looked up as Oghren walked over. "We going to play cards or what?" 

63.2 Alistair 

Kathryn and he had retired to their tent after several rounds of cards and ale. Zevran was by far the best player, which somehow seemed appropriate. Sten had the best poker face but somehow didn't understand the concept of bluffing. Kathryn was the best bluffer in the group, which didn't surprise anyone, and least of all him. But Leliana had the luck of the Maker himself. It made you wonder. 

He was tired. The battle had been hard fought but had gone well. They had gotten through with only a few cuts and bruises, excepting of course, Kathryn's broken arm. He looked over and saw that she was having trouble getting out of her armor, he turned to her. 

"You need help?" He said. 

"No, I…" She stopped and took a deep breath. "Yes, I do." 

He undid the remaining buckles. "How's the arm?" He asked. 

"It aches. It's healed, functional but still sore and a bit weak but Wynne said it should be fine in a day or so." He helped her out of the chest piece leaving her in undershirt and leggings. 

"And these?" He said barely touching her busted lip and then her black eye. 

"Jowan said my lip won't scar and the others are just bruises and will heal." She said. 

He nodded his head. "I'm sorry about that." He said. 

"Not your fault, you were busy leading the fight with the darkspawn. I was the one that panicked and got myself trapped with an alpha." She said. "Unless you somehow feel that you could have prevented my injuries... but it wasn't like you were watching the whole thing and were able to intercede and didn't, right?" She said with enough sarcastic innocence to make it more of an accusation than a question. 

He sighed. "How did you know?" 

"I didn't, but I know you and you seem awful guilt stricken for something that you had no control over." She said. "Now I'm good at that, but you not as much." She looked at him obviously expecting an explanation. 

"After the first round, Leliana saw that you were being attacked by the alpha. She told me and was going to shoot it, and that was before it… but I… I stopped her." He said. 

"Even worse, not only did you not come to my rescue but prevented others from doing so." She said her voice icy. 

"It wasn't like I wanted you to get hurt, but you… you can take an alpha, obviously. You were letting it beat you. You weren't doing anything, not attacking it at all, barely even defending yourself, not even trying to fight it." He looked away and then back. "Whatever the reason, you… had to work through it. I wouldn't have let it kill you but I wanted to give you a chance to save yourself." 

"No, it just would have prevented me from getting a broken arm and black eye." She said as she crossed her arms. 

"And it would have prevented you from figuring out that this isn't a dream or nightmare and that you can take care of yourself. You don't need me or anyone to save you, at least then you didn't." He said. 

"Oh, so this was for my own good. That's awful… um…" She said considering. 

"What? Patronizing and condescending… of me?" He said. 

"Well, for you to decide that getting my ass kicked is good for me, that could be said of you, yes." She said. 

"I was right." He said looking her in the eye. "You did fight back and then you were better you said so yourself." 

"And if I don't see it that way? If I think there was a way for me to realize that without broken bones or risking my life in such a way?" She said her voice rising. "If I resent you deciding what is best for me, especially when it involves my health or safety? If I considered what you did as a betrayal of me and our relationship, of our promise to look out for and protect and help each other…" 

"Enough." He said. "I get the idea. I was still right about it. I know I was. I wish you hadn't gotten hurt, I do. I'd rather anything than having to watch you be hurt and seeing you like that. But you want me to say I'm sorry I did it and I'm not and I won't say it. And if you hate me for it, then… so be it." He grabbed his pack and started out of the tent. 

"Alistair!" She called. He stopped and turned to her. 

She smiled and said casually. "I was just asking." 

He looked surprised and then at her curiously. "What? You… you mean you're not upset with me." 

"No. I'm not, not at all." She said. 

"Wait. I don't understand… were you just teasing or… that wasn't funny." He said. 

"It wasn't meant to be." She said. "I wanted to see if you would stand by your decision, take the responsibility for your action and face the consequences without second guessing yourself." She smiled. "And you did. You were right to do what you did and you know it and I couldn't convince you otherwise. I'm more proud of that than you leading the fight today." 

"More… proud." He said. "Really?" 

"Yes, although I have to admit, you were quite impressive barking out orders like that." She said. 

"Oh, I… I thought you might not appreciate that." He said. 

"Are you kidding?" She said. "It seems you not only have a knack for larger scale engagements but real understanding." 

"You think so." He said. 

"I do." She said. "But what's more important than that, is that you took charge when you had to. You handed out orders like you had been doing it all your life, and they listened to you and obeyed and they lived because of it. It shows a real talent for leadership. To be honest, I saw more from you in those few moments, than I ever saw from Cailan with all the armies of Ferelden at his command." She smiled. "You really are your grandmother's son." 

He looked down and smiled. "Proud, huh?" 

"Yes." She said. "Very." 

63.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn couldn't sleep. She had tried but finally sat up on the bedroll. She knew that she could blame her inability to sleep on any number of things, including her injuries or the fight with the alpha but she knew the real reason even if she couldn't or wouldn't admit to it. 

She looked over at Alistair who was sleeping peacefully. She had to admit that he had earned it. Much had been asked of him today and he had answered in a way and to a degree that had surprised even him. He had done well today, incredibly so, and she was proud of him. Seeing him giving out orders, leading the fight, it was like she was seeing him again for the first time. And she liked what she saw. 

It seemed as each day passed, the more confidence he displayed, the more strength and courage he showed, the more wisdom, more leadership, the more maturity she saw in him, the more he stood beside her and not behind her, the more he stepped out from her shadow, the more they became true partners in this. 

He watched him. He was beautiful. Not only was he physically impressive and incredibly handsome to boot but he was a good and wonderful person. She had hoped and even prayed to find such a person she could love and respect, but this… he… was so much more than she had ever truly hoped for. 

She reached out and touched his chest, where the alpha had cut him. She remembered that. She remembered all of it, every excruciating detail. Everything that had happened. Everything that Alistair had said despite the fact that at the time she hadn't been able to understand him. Now every word seemed seared in her memory. She had wanted to shut it out, shut all of it out, but now she found that part of it she wanted to remember. 

She took a deep breath but didn't wake up, comfortable with her touching him, even when asleep. Memories rushed through her. She thought about the nights, all the nights they had shared. How they had slept arms and legs wrapped around each other with nothing between them at all. She remembered how it felt to be held by him, how strong his arms were but how tender his touch was, how his skin felt against hers, how she could hear his heart beating, feel him breathing… she missed it… she missed him. 

Her fingers graced his chest, tracing the lines of his body, slowly meandering down his stomach till their progress was stopped by his breeches. She knew that he was only wearing them so that she would be comfortable, so that she would sleep in the tent with him. No doubt her being here like this was equal parts torture and comfort for him. 

That need and desire and the longing to have those fulfilled. She understood that. Her fingers toyed with the laces. It was funny how physically only this strip of leather and a few layers of cloth separated them. She thought about watching him undo them the first night they spent together. She had never seen a man like that before and he had never been seen before. 

Given their complete lack of experience it was a wonder they hadn't botched the whole thing up, but they hadn't. It had been wonderful in its way, comical at times and tender at others, passionate and caring. It wouldn't have mattered what anyone could have told her, it never would have totally prepared her for it. It didn't seem possible to be completely prepared for such an experience. Not that that was a bad thing, in fact, she considered it a blessing that she was able to discover the wonder of it with him. 

She smiled at the memory, making sure not to laugh so not to wake him. He would probably not appreciate that she was laughing about their first night together, which of course made her smile all the more. There had been other nights they had shared, many others. She had taken them for granted, thinking that there would always be more but… she had been wrong about that. It would never be like that again. They had changed. Their relationship had changed. Everything had changed. 

Not only that but now she knew that it could be over at any time. Before she had always believed that they would make it through to the end of this but now she was not so sure. The Landsmeet, a random bandit or any darkspawn could end it for them at any time. Each night they spent apart, was one they would never get back. Each moment they had together… they all seemed so precious and dear to her now. She couldn't help but feel as though they were slipping through her fingers. 

She gripped the laces tightly. Perhaps she should let him sleep… no, that was the fear talking. Did she seriously think he would mind being woken up to lie with her? Her breath caught in her throat. Was that what she was thinking about doing? Was she ready? Would she ever be completely ready? She bowed her head and then looked up and saw that Alistair was watching her. 

She let go of the laces and quickly drew her hand back. He didn't do anything, didn't react at all. There was no expression on his face that she could see. He just watched her. She took a deep breath. She was nervous but excited, and she was tired of being afraid. She looked him in the eyes and then started to undo the laces. 

He sat up and grabbed her hand. "Kathryn, are you sure?" He was breathing hard and she could tell that the last thing he wanted to do right now was to talk her out of this but still he asked. He asked because he cared, because he loved her, because he wanted what was best for her. But she did want this and not for him, not because of what he had done for her, not because he needed it, but because she did. 

She touched his face and then she kissed him. It was a kiss filled with passion and love, sorrow and courage, despair and hope. She felt as though she were ripping her heart open, exposing it all to him, and as much as it hurt, it somehow felt good. 

She pulled back slightly. He was stunned and breathless. After a moment, he opened his eyes. He took her head in his hands and kissed her. It was a kiss of desire and need, ferocity and peace, heartache and strength. 

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. He whispered to her. "Tell me what to do." 

"Help me." She said not caring anymore if it made her sound weak or helpless. "Help me through this. I need you… I need you to help me through this. I want this… with you… so much… but I… need help." 

She pulled away and started to pull her undershirt off but as she did the doubt and fear that had crippled her when confronting the alpha took hold. She stopped, gripping the edge of the shirt till her knuckles turned white, trying to force herself to continue. But to allow herself to be that vulnerable, that exposed even with him was still so difficult. 

Alistair watched and then gently touched her hands, pulling them up, guiding them over her head. Then she watched as Alistair's hands ran down her arms, over her chest and stomach. Memories of the nightmare rushed her, sounds, sensations, emotions. But instead of trying to fight them, she allowed them to wash over her, as a cold draft might pass over exposed skin, causing a deep unsettling chill. 

She felt the panic but instead of turning away from him and ignoring them, she pressed agasint him, holding him as tight as she could. Soon those memories became lost in the warmth of his skin, the tenderness of his touch. It would take time, she knew, time before they would be able to share anything like they had before but with time they could have so much more. 

On some level she understood, though she would have to wait some time to be able to put it into words. Before they had been little more than children in this. They had experienced emotions, true good emotions, stronger than any they had ever felt before. But now, all they had been through had carved profound wounds into them, and those wounds had exposed parts of themselves, opened a depth of feeling that they had barely known was possible. There had been pain and suffering, despair and anguish but those emotions are the price of all joy and happiness, all ecstasy and all love. 

As she drifted off to sleep, her arms and legs intertwined with his, resting if not in the pleasure but in the peace they had found with each other, she realized that while the price of this is high, perhaps even cruel at times, she could not say that it was not worth it. 

Chapter 64: Twenty-Sixth Camp 

64.1 Zevran 

Zevran watched as the group settled in after dinner. They were nearly to Redcliffe. After a couple days of rest, they would head on to Denerim for the Landsmeet. 

He watched as Kathryn walked over to where Alistair was sitting. She handed him his cup of tea and then sat down next to him with hers. Then she leaned back against his shoulder as he casually put his arm around her. The other morning they had emerged from their tent and while it was obvious, at least to him, that they had made love the previous night, it was more than that. Something had changed between them. All they had been through had strengthened their bond. That evening by the fire Kathryn had for the first time done as she had just then, sat beside him and leaned back against him. He had been surprised by the action and with little alternative, had awkwardly and cautiously put his arm around her. It was a scandalous display of affection especially for a noble but Zevran could tell how much it had meant to Alistair. 

But that was not all that had changed. Kathryn had understandably panicked when first confronted by the darkspawn. A fact that surprised no one, nor did anyone blame her or think the worse of her for it. But the way that Alistair had stepped up and taken command, the authority with which he had handed out orders, and the fact that his strategies had worked, surprised everyone including Alistair himself. When Kathryn had recovered, she had not demanded that he relinquish the authority he had claimed. She was still unquestionably the leader but he now held a great deal more power and authority than he did before. 

Zevran looked away, not wanting to invade their private moments. He found his eyes wandering over to the side of the fire to where Sigrun was sitting. They had not talked much at all since the other night and if he was honest with himself… he missed her. It was an odd feeling, one he had not really experienced before. She had made it clear that she was not interested in a relationship that was only for fun. If she were to spend her precious time with someone, she wanted it to mean something, to be worth the pain of its loss which given the situation was nearly assured. It was a different point of view than he had always held but an interesting one. 

After everyone got settled, Leliana sang several songs and told a couple stories. After she finished, most of the rest divided up to play games or indulge their hobbies. He got up and walked over to Sigrun. 

"Hello." She said with a warm smile. 

"I thought to walk out to the hill there and see the view. No doubt from that height you can see the entire valley. Would you like to join me?" He asked. 

"You mean you can see that far from up there. Can you see all the way to the mountains or the sea?" She asked. 

"No, you will not be able to see quite that far but I suspect the view will be something you have not seen before." He said. 

"All right." She said. 

They walked out of camp and up to the top of the hill. 

"Wow!" Sigrun said. "Look at… that… and that… the… the trees! I've never seen a tree from the top before! They look so small. Oh! Is that a wolf? It's like a bug. Look, the camp fire is smaller than a candle. The clouds, you can see… all of them!" They stood several minutes looking over the valley and into the night sky. 

"Thank you for showing me this." She said. "You've been very nice to me since I got here." 

Zevran starred into the sky. "I… yes… you are welcome." He said. 

"Those clouds are darker than the rest. They look different." She said pointing to the edge of the horizon. 

"Yes, those are rain clouds. It will probably storm before morning." Zevran said. 

"Storm? With lightning and thunder? I've heard of that. And rain, that's when the water falls from the sky, like the snow?" She said. 

"Yes, most likely all of that." He said. 

The wind blew cold and Sigrun shivered. "We should get back to the fire. I'll never get used to the wind, how the air moves like that and how strong and cold it is. It's like it blows right through you." She took a last look at the valley and clouds and then turned down the hill. She took a couple steps and then saw that Zevran was still looking over the valley. She stepped back and stood next to him. "Zevran?" 

"Her name was Rinna." Zevran said. 

"The woman you were in… you cared about." She said. 

"Yes. She was an elven assassin with the Crows, tough, smooth, wicked. She was everything I thought I desired. She was… special." He said. 

"What happened?" She asked. 

"She was part of my team to take down a difficult mark. Another assassin told me that she had betrayed us, taken a bribe from the target and told him of our plan. I allowed him to kill her. She swore on her knees with tears in her eyes that she had not betrayed us and that she loved me. I laughed in her face and said I didn't care. I watched her bleed to death." He said. "Only to find out later that she had not betrayed us." 

"I'm sorry." She said. "You must have felt horrible." 

"I felt empty. I felt as if I was nothing." He said. "That is why I accepted this job in Ferelden, far away from home. For all I wished was to die and what better way than to throw myself at the fabled Grey Wardens." He sighed a heavy sigh. "It… feels good to speak of it to someone. I swore I never would." 

"Do you still want to die?" She asked. 

"No." He said. "What I want is to begin again. An assassin… must learn to forget about sentiment. It is dangerous. You take your pleasures where you can, when life is good. To expect anything more would be reckless. I thought it to be the same with us. Something to enjoy, a pleasant diversion and little more. But… you are unlike anyone I have ever met." He turned to face her. 

"If something happened with us… it would not be meaningless. I can offer no more than that right now." He said. "As to the future, there is the possibility of… I do not know what... but something." 

Sigrun considered. "I don't know, Zevran. I'll have to think about it. I mean, I've heard stories about elves." She said with a smile. 

"Oh," Zevran said. "What have you heard and from whom, might I ask?" 

"Leliana was saying… I mean… I just hear… stuff… you know… that elves… are… stuff." She said. 

"Well, I can guarantee that whatever may happen, you will not be disappointed." Zevran said. 

"Is that so?" She said with a smile. "I don't know. I've had my share of dusters and you know what they say about dwarves." 

"No, what do they say?" He said. 

"Stuff." She said coy. 

Zevran laughed. "We should get back. While the night is beautiful, it is also dangerously cold." 

They walked down the hill. As they got just to the edge of camp. Sigrun stopped. Zevran turned back to her. "I've thought about it." She said as she stepped quickly to him, threw her arms around him and kissed him. 

64.2 Zevran 

Zevran woke to the sound of the gentle rain on the tent. The storm had struck late the previous night. He opened his eyes and looked down. Sigrun's head was resting on his stomach. Her arms along his sides. Last night had been… simply… marvelous. It seemed that while she was not as well versed in technique as some he had been with her enthusiasm and delight in love making more than made up for it. But it had been more than that, in all the pleasure and there had been a lot, there had been moments of tenderness and caring, such that he was not accustomed to. 

He gently laid his hand on her head. Normally after such an encounter he would be keen to get away, to move on to the next job or conquest but resting in this comfortable intimacy, he had no desire to leave. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep. 

64.3 Alistair 

Alistair got set to make a dash to the tent he shared with Kathryn. Hopefully, she was still sleeping. They had been up most of the night, not that he minded in the least. 

The first time they had been together since the nightmare had been an emotionally trying and draining experience. He had done all he could to help her but it had been very difficult for her, more emotionally painful than physically pleasurable. He had wanted to stop but she had said not to. He hated to say he hadn't enjoyed being with her but, well… he'd had better nights. 

He had feared that she may not want to try again, may never wish to try again, that perhaps her enjoying the act was now impossible or at least it was impossible with him. He worried that maybe they would never get that part of their life back. 

However the next day, she was better, much better, calmer, more relaxed, more open and more herself. The next night, they had tried again at her insistence and it was better. But everything between them still seemed disjointed and just off somehow. As she had approached her own release she couldn't relax, couldn't let go and allow it to happen. She had fought it and finally in frustration she had asked him to stop. 

But last night, everything had finally worked. The shadows and memories seemed to finally have been driven away or at least back. It had been amazing. So different from before the nightmare but yet somehow exactly the same. 

Alistair took a quick look at the sky, from the look of it probably rain all day. He made a break for it and quickly ducked inside the tent being careful not to spill the two mugs of tea he was carrying. Kathryn looked up as he sat on the bedroll next to her. 

"Oh, tea! Thank you." She said as she took the mug he handed her. She took a sip. "Wait, how did you boil water in the middle of a rainstorm?" 

"I am just that good of a cook." He said. 

"You got Jowan to boil the water with his flaming magic, didn't you?" She said. 

"Well, yes, but it took some doing, let me tell you." He said. 

"What, did you threaten to smite him?" She said. 

"You know… 'threaten' is such a harsh word." He said as she smiled. "I just traded him part of the brandy, thought it fair." 

"Well, your sacrifice is much appreciated." She took another sip. "It is perfect, good, strong and hot. Hmmm… sounds like someone I know." She said. He smiled. "So, what shall we do since we can't do much but wait for the storm to pass." 

"Oh. I have plans for us." He said. 

"Really?" 

"Yes, and none of them involve either of us leaving this tent." 

64.4 Kathryn 

As the sky darkened, it started raining harder. Kathryn and Alistair laid together, arms and legs intertwined, as their breathing slowly returned to normal. 

Kathryn started to laugh. "You can't possibly be ready to go again." 

"Well, not quite yet but very soon. We do have some time to make up for and I wish to get my fill of you." He said. 

"Yes, we should take advantage of the time we have together now before… I mean, that we have now." She said. 

"Before… what?" He asked. "Staying with the Arl? Sneaking around is a bit of an inconvenience but easily done." 

"Right, of course." She said. 

"That wasn't what you were talking about, was it?" He said. "What is it?" 

"It's nothing. Really." She said. 

"Tell me." He said. 

"I… It's just that when we get to Denerim, after the Landsmeet, things will be different." She said. "Things will change, they'll have to." 

"Well, sure but not between us, right?" He said. She looked down. "Kathryn? What are you trying to say?" 

"Look, now isn't the time." She said. 

"Now is a perfect time." He said insistent. "What are you trying to say?" 

She took a deep breath. "Alistair, where do you see this going between us?" 

"Well, as it stands after the Landsmeet, either going to have heads on spikes or I'm going to be king." He said. "I never wanted that but I'm getting rather used to the idea. I might even be able to do some good. But that won't affect us. I mean, I know there will be many years of fighting the darkspawn, recovery and reclaiming lands affected by the Blight. There will be a lot of work to do to get Ferelden back to what it was. Enough for both of us, me as king and you as Warden-Commander." 

"And I also know that unless your brother appears you will also be Teyrna of Highever, but… Kathryn, we can make it work. There is a way, there is always a way. I'll be king and I'll be as good a king as I can possibly be and I know there are responsibilities and duties that come with that but I… I'm not letting you go." He said determined. 

"You say that now." She said almost sadly. "Alistair, there are many considerations involved in royal… relationships." She said. 

"What does that mean?" He said. 

"There are politics involved and well, Alistair, you haven't had much experience with women. You've only been with me. It is one thing to say you want to be with me when you have only a few options, it is another when you are the most eligible bachelor in Thedas." She said. 

"What are you talking about?" He said. 

"After the Blight, after everything, you can have any woman you want, Antivian princesses, Orlesian ladies, nobles from the Free Marches. All of them, in fact, a harem of your very own, if you desire." She said. "I don't want you to say or make promises and then wish you had at least seen what was available to you." 

"Right, because I'm sure there are hundreds of women as... incredible as you for me to pick from." He said. 

"Or maybe you, as many men especially those in power, will want someone who will… you know, serve you tea, someone who will assist you in all you have to do, who doesn't have their own duties and responsibilities other than being queen, someone who can be a wife to you, a helper as opposed to as…." 

"…partner." He said sharply. 

"Or maybe you'll want someone who can… have your children." She said. 

Alistair looked away and then rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll grant you, being king having an heir is important, if that's even possible at this point. But how you can think I might want someone else after all we have... But maybe that isn't what this is about." 

"What do you mean?" She asked. 

"You told me that you always wanted to do something important and not just be some noble's wife and bear his children." He said. "When this is over, you'll be the Warden-Commander of Ferelden and the Teyrna of Highever. And maybe you won't want to give any of that up, that freedom and power, to be… something else. Maybe you'll want someone who can be there for you and help you fulfill your responsibilities and duties; someone to follow you around in a way that I can't, not then; someone who can give you what I can't… a family and some semblance of a normal life." 

"Alistair, I…" 

"Look, you're right… this isn't the time talk about this. We should wait to talk about a future, when we know we have one, and have some idea of what it will be, and then… then we can... talk. So, how about we forget about this for now and get back to the... other more fun stuff?" 

"Yes, we should take advantage of the time we have... now." She said. 

"Yes," Alistair said. "We should." 

Chapter 65: Redcliffe 

65.1 Eamon 

There was a discrete but firm knock on the door to Eamon's study. Teagan hurried to the door and opened it, bidding Kathryn to enter. Eamon knew his brother well and could see that he was very taken with Kathryn, seizing every opportunity to devote his attentions to her. For her part she did seem quite fond of his brother but Eamon had seen the looks that had passed between her and Alistair and it was easy to see that they were very much in love. 

He was glad of it, though disappointed for his brother. However if anyone deserved the devotion of such a women as restitution for a lifetime of neglect, it was Alistair. 

"Please, my dear, have a seat. I took the liberty of having the servant fetch a bottle of red wine, will that be acceptable?" Eamon said. 

"Yes, Thank you." She said. 

"I trust that you and your companions are finding all you require." He said. 

"Yes, it is too bad that the weather prevented us from arriving sooner or we could have longer traipsed on your hospitality." She said. 

"Please, for all you have done, it is the least I can offer." He said. "But we do need to make our way to Denerim the day after tomorrow. I would like to arrive some days before the Landsmeet to do as much ground work as we can, in order to give us the best chance of success." 

"Yes, indeed." She said. 

"I thought it a good idea for us to go over the situation, all I have learned, our strategies and plans, now far away from Denerim." Eamon said. 

"Of course." She said and looked at the door. "Alistair should be here soon. He was in the courtyard, I believe." 

"Oh, I did not send for him." Eamon said. 

"You did not." She said as more of a question than a statement. 

"No, given his resistance to the whole idea of him being put forth as king, I thought it best that we discuss such without him. We can strategize better if we can talk freely. Besides with his lack of experience in regards to such things, the discussion may not be one he could readily understand." Eamon said. 

Kathryn smiled what Eamon could only call a bemused smile. "I must respectfully disagree. I believe that you will find his resistance to the idea somewhat… lessened. And while his experience with such is limited, I admit, his understanding is not and you will find his insights and grasp of the situation… surprising. I believe he should be present for this discussion, so much so that I will insist." She said and then seemed to consider. "With all due respect to your relation, he is not Cailan." 

Eamon was taken slightly aback. He had expected her to object slightly to discussing the matter without him, but out of loyalty and love. He realized, however, that he may have not only misjudged Alistair but her as well. There was no sentiment in her words, only conviction. 

"I see." Eamon said. 

There was a soft knock on the door and then a servant entered with a tray containing red wine, brandy and three glasses. He set the tray on the side table. "Is there anything else, ser?" 

"Yes, find Alistair and tell him that his presence is required here in the study at his earliest convenience. He was in the courtyard." Eamon said. 

"Yes, ser." The servant said, made a quick bow and left the room. Eamon poured the drinks as they discussed other such matters as the weather. He had just handed Kathryn her wine when there was a firm, quick knock on the door. 

"Come in." Eamon said. Alistair opened the door, he seemed just slightly out of breath as though he had run from the courtyard. "Ah, yes, Alistair, please come in. I wanted to discuss our plans for the Landsmeet." 

"Oh, right." He said. "I figured 'earliest convenience' meant 'right now'." He said and then looked around. "I still seem to be late." 

"Eamon thought we'd be together and only sent the servant after me." Kathryn said. Alistair nodded. Eamon was grateful to her. She had easily covered the slight and dispelled Alistair's concerns. It was good of her, but he also noted the ease with which she told the lie and how convincing. He nearly believed it himself and he knew better. He was glad they were on the same side. 

"Brandy?" Teagan asked Alistair. 

"Yes, please." He replied. 

Teagan looked at Eamon and at the two brandy glasses. Eamon waved off his own allowing Teagan to have it. "Now, that we are all here…" Eamon saw just the slightest smile from Kathryn. "…let me tell you what I have." 

Eamon proceeded to tell them all he had been doing since they had been there, the letters written and received, the news and rumors, the riots and the disturbing picture it all painted. But while many were against Loghain and Howe, many others didn't believe the rumors, simply couldn't believe these things of Loghain and put them down to lies told by his enemies, the Grey Wardens or even the Orlesians. And there were many more who were unaware of what was going on in the rest of the country. Eamon figured that as it stood less than half supported them but that more could be convinced once they got to Denerim. Then if a compelling argument was made at the Landsmeet, he felt that they had a chance, a small one, but a solid one. 

"I think that our best bet is to attack him, his policies and politics as regent, to show that he is at best an incompetent ruler, not capable of leading this country through the perils it finds itself, that he is putting the country in great risk of falling to the blight, and at worst a despot, who used subterfuge to take the throne, trampling on the rights of all Fereldens, who is willing to use cruelty and force to subdue all opposition and has no respect for Ferelden traditions, history or its government." Eamon said and then sighed. "But we will need a great deal of proof to convince them that he must be removed." 

"So, the fact that he is willing to murder Cailan and leave an army to die to cover it up… that doesn't matter?" Alistair asked. 

Eamon noted that there was no anger in the question. While Alistair still held a personal grudge against Loghain for Ostagar, and who could blame him, he was able to consider and listen to strategies calmly, which given Alistair's temper, he would not have thought that of him. 

"The main issue is that we cannot prove it. While his actions are suspect, they are not damning. And while in peacetime more would look to them with a critical eye, we are in essence at war with the darkspawn and most are scared. To be honest, there was never much faith in Cailan as a leader and he did nothing to instill any great amount. Most people would prefer Loghain be in charge instead of Cailan. They have more faith in his ability to lead the country through this and if that took Cailan's death, and even an entire army's well, some would say better an army than the country." Eamon stopped. Alistair looked thoughtful. 

"Now, how he went about it, is the most unsettling, taking the country by murder and subterfuge and then backing it up with force, but if their lives are at stake, many will overlook these things out of fear. However, if we show that what he is doing is in fact putting them in more danger, not only from the darkspawn but from himself… we have a better chance." Eamon said. 

Alistair considered and then nodded. "In a way he became what he fought against, a tyrant, willing to take the country by force, and impose his will and judgment on it, no matter the cost and if left unchecked, he will eventually destroy everything it means to be Ferelden." 

Eamon smiled, surprised at the insight. He cast a quick glance to Kathryn whose eyes held no such surprise and said 'I told you so'. He turned back to Alistair. "Yes, that's a good way to sum up our argument and we will need to make it as often and to as many before the Landsmeet as we can. This will be a fight, as much a battle as any you have fought, just with words and not steel. And it will be just as deadly." 

65.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn entered her room. They had enjoyed a wonderful feast with music, song and dance. But it was late and they had all retired to their rooms. They would rest tomorrow and then head to Denerim the day after. She had a sense of dread about the whole thing. This might be the hardest battle of her life and everything depended on it. She wasn't sure if she was ready. She had been a leader in the battles, a diplomat in order to gathered the allies, but now she had to be a politician. She looked into the fire. For more times than she cared to count, she wished her father was here. 

She heard the quiet knock on the door. "Yes." She called out. Alistair slowly opened the door and then quickly steeped in, shutting it quietly behind him. 

"You know, I was hoping to catch you in a completely unrespectable condition." He said with a smile. 

"No, I was waiting for you to arrive first." She said smiling back. "No point being unrespectable if no one around to enjoy it." 

He walked up to her. "And I do enjoy it." 

"Oh, before I forget, I have something for you." She said. 

"For me?" He said pleased but suspicious. She walked over to her pack and pulled out a book. "When did you get that? Or better yet, how did you hide that in our tent?" 

"I didn't." She said. "I took it from the Arl's study today." 

"Giving me stolen goods, huh?" She handed the book to him, front cover facing the floor. "Let me guess the illustrated Amrak Artus with all sixty-four intimate positions drawn in detail. At least I'm hoping. But... you said you got this from the Arl's study, so probably not. At least if he does have a copy, it wouldn't be in the study." He turned the book over. On the front cover was inscribed the title: The Fundamentals of Oratory, Part I. 

He looked to her and then opened to the first page. "It is better to have nothing to say and know how to say it than something to say and not know how to say it." 

"It is more than just making speeches for large groups, it talks about one-on-one conversations and everything in between. It was written by an adviser to one of the Orleasian Emperors. Essential reading for a king-in-training." She smiled. "Most of this first book is a discussion on what makes a good speech and persuasive or diplomatic conversation, the importance of good manners, putting people at ease and in a position to listen to you and finding your own voice. It is generally common sense type stuff, most of which you intuitively know and do already but this will make you conscious of it and keep you from making easy to make mistakes, which with nobility can be costly." 

Alistair looked thoughtful as he flipped through the book. "Thank you." 

"Well, if you are going to be king, there is much you need to know. This is a good start." She said. 

"Not only for the book." He said. "But for even thinking that I was smart enough to understand it, for believing that I can do this. For insisting I be treated…" He stopped. "I know Eamon didn't intend for me to be at that meeting today." Kathryn started to object. "No, there were only three glasses on the tray." He looked down and then back to her. 

"All my life I was told, that I couldn't be king and what they meant was that I wasn't good enough to be king. But you… you have never doubted that I can do it. You believe in me. You don't know what that means to me." He said reaching out to touch her face, brushing her check with his thumb. "But you also know that I can't do it alone." 

"No one does anything alone." She said. "If I have learned anything by all that has happened is that we do nothing by ourselves. I never could have done what little I have done without you, never doubt that." She took his hand. "And I promise, no matter what happens, no matter what… I will always be here for you, in some way." 

"Kathryn, you know I want…" 

"I have something else for you." She said turning away and walking back to her pack. She reached inside and pulled out a well used but well cared for miniature golem doll. 

Alistair's eyes widened as he took the doll. "Where did you find this?" 

"In a box of Connor's toys." She said. 

"Aren't you the little thief, stealing toys from children, are we?" He said. 

"I like to think of it as restoring it to the rightful owner." She said. 

Alistair looked over the doll. "The hordes of monsters I crushed with this." He laughed. "I had to leave it here when I went to the monetary. Such things weren't allowed, they interfered with training." 

"Is that why you collect the small statutes, the warriors and demons and dragons?" She asked. "Because they were taken away." 

"Perhaps." He said embarrassed. "Thank you… for… just everything." 

65.3 Kathryn 

Sometime in the darkest part of the night, Kathryn woke, rolled over and reached for Alistair, but he wasn't there. For a moment she panicked. She opened her eyes, raised up and looked around the room. 

Then she saw him. He was sitting by the fire, with not so much as his small clothes on and a blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders, holding a glass of brandy and reading intently the book on oratory. Next to him, standing guard, was the small golem doll. 

She smiled, laid back down, closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. 

65.4 Eamon 

The late afternoon sun shone in the window illuminating the game board. Eamon and Alistair were studying the pieces carefully. Each had won a game and this was to decide the match. Eamon had wagered a rare bottle of thirty year old Northern Antivan brandy while Alistair had put up a helmet that looked exactly like the helm of Ser Ferris the Red. 

Eamon made his move and then sat back. "There is something I wanted to discuss with you." 

"What is it?" Alistair said without raising his eyes from the board. 

"Well, I know we have not talked about it, but Kathryn indicated to me last time you were here that the two of you had an understanding between you." Eamon said. 

Alistair looked up and said as confidently as he could. "Yes, that is true." 

Eamon smiled. "I am glad for you. She is an… incredible woman, exceptional in every way." 

"She is." Alistair said. He seemed to want to say more. Eamon waited. Alistair appeared to be fighting with himself, no doubt unsure how much to say, what to share. Finally, he said. "She is... amazing. What she has been able to accomplish… I'm not sure anyone could have done any better. I know for certain I couldn't have." He said. "Why she's with me… I truly have no idea." 

"Well, I have learned that her judgment is beyond question, and that while kind she harbors little sentimentality. If she is with you, she is convinced that you are worthy of her time." Eamon said. 

Alistair smiled and then looked serious. "I… I love her, you know. More than I… I ever thought it was possible to love anything. I... I didn't think I'd ever find… and then for it to be her and for her to… she says that she… loves me." He shook his head. "Most of the time I can't believe it." 

"Well, if it is any consolation to you she gives every indication that she cares a great deal for you." Eamon said. 

"Really?" Alistair said. "You think so?" 

"Yes, she is reserved in manner but not feeling, much like her father, but it is quite clear." Alistair smiled. "Have the two of you talked about the future? One beyond the civil war and the Blight?" Eamon asked. 

"No, well, sort of." Alistair said. "It seems a bit presumptuous, given on all that is going on to assume we'll even have one." 

"True enough." Eamon said. "Although I have found it best to give some thought to every possible outcome in case it occurs. And while I may presume too much, it seems to me that she would be a most excellent queen." Alistair smiled wider. Eamon continued. "And the reality of the situation is that you are an unknown to the nobility, untrained in the arts of governance, having someone to help you in that capacity would be invaluable to you and a great benefit to Ferelden. Even without your relationship, she would be the best possible candidate. Her skills and talents would be of great use in that position. And she is known at least by association if not reputation to the nobility, trained from birth to be Teryna..." 

"As well as a potential queen." Alistair said. 

Again Eamon was a bit surprised by Alistair's astute observation. "Indeed. I can think of no one better to help rule this country, regardless of your relationship." Eamon took a deep breath. "However, you need to consider the possibility that may not happen. While I am the last person to advise anyone to marry for political reasons, she will have responsibilities and duties as Teyrna and Warden-Commander, and if she is unable or even unwilling to be queen… the truth of it is that you need someone to fulfill that role, to help you rule the country and to hopefully provide an heir." 

Alistair stared at the game board. Eamon continued. "If you do marry another, and your relationship with Kathryn continues unofficially, as your mistress, she would have considerable influe..." 

"As my what!?" Alistair said stunned. 

"Alistair," Eamon sat back. "Before Orlais became an empire, the King's Mistress held a position at court, with power, authority and influence. With royal marriages so many times being political in nature, it is nearly inevitable that a ruler would find companionship and comfort, even love outside of that union." 

"You're saying I should… and then have her…" Alistair said. 

"I am simply saying you must consider the future and what is best for Ferelden and for you. Being a monarch is not easy and better with someone to share the burdens." Eamon said. "I truly hope she agrees to be queen for all our sakes. Perhaps the benefit to Ferelden, her sense of duty will help persuade her but if she does not agree… you need to give some thought to what you will do." 

Alistair looked thoughtful and then began to shake his head. "I don't want her to do anything like that out of duty or thinking it will help the country. I...I won't allow her to do that. She has done so much for this country already and deserves to choose her own future. I want her to... to marry me because she wants to marry me, but... if she doesn't want to be..." Alistair considered. "I need to think about that." 

Eamon nodded. He made his move. In all he was pleased, with the conversation which needed to be had and had went well, and the fact that he was two moves from winning the game. 

Alistair looked over the board, distracted and then he seemed to focus. He smiled, picked up his piece, played it and said. "Game." 

"What?" Eamon said as he looked over the board but no matter how long he stared the result was the same. He looked up at Alistair. 

"Now, where is that brandy?" Alistair said with a smile. 

Eamon shook his head in disbelief… and smiled with a great deal of pride. 

Chapter 66: Denerim Part I 

66.1 Kathyrn 

They had barely got settled into the Arl's Denerim estate when Loghain, Howe and Ser Caurthrine arrived. It had been a tense meeting to say the least. She had said too much, threatened Howe, but she didn't care. She wanted him to know she hadn't forgotten and that in one way or the other, he would pay for what he had done. 

But now she had other things to do. Eamon was going to do what he could, talk to as many as he was able before the landsmeet, but he wanted to hear the gossip, what was being said around town, take the general tenor of the situation as it stood to get an idea of what they were up against. She had left the estate to see what she could learn. She had gone by herself, the idea she could hear more if alone. 

She walked through the market towards the tavern, and turned down the alley. 

"You really should know better than to go out alone into such a dangerous city. All manner of people about." A man's voice said. 

She turned to the voice and saw a tall human man step out from the shadow. "Roland." She said. 

"I heard you were in town and came to speak with you." He said, his voice cold. "I have had a great deal of time to think about all that happened, all you have done and said, how things have worked out and I must tell you… that you are the most deceitful, manipulative, devious, wicked, malevolent, evil person in the Maker's world. So malicious your intent, immoral your actions, the depth of your depravity is astonishing to me. I hope that you suffer all I have at your hands, that you… oh, what was that… I had this all planned out… there was this really good part about boils and maggots and rains of toads, but I can't remember now." 

"Rain of toads, huh?" She said. 

"Yes, well, it sounded good at the time." He said and then broke into a wide smile. He stepped up to Kathryn and took her hand and kissed it. "How are you, my lady?" 

"I am well. Better now that you are here." She said. "You look good." 

"I am." He said. 

"Then you have much to tell me." She said. 

"Indeed." He said."Although most of it you know as you planned it." 

"I do not know what you mean." She said. "I only asked you to perform a simple task, that is all." 

"Even now, you deny it." He said with a sigh and smile. 

"Come, let's to the tavern and you can explain what it is I stand accused of." She said. 

The waitress set down the glass of red wine and a dark ale and seeing that they didn't require anything else left. 

"Now if I may… how are things in Highever?" Kathryn asked. 

"Better now that Howe is in Denerim." Roland said. "Howe and his men are universally despised. I'm sure you now know that Howe claims that your father was about to betray the country to the Orleasians, but not a soul in Highever believes that. At first the situation was… tense, but Howe took most of his troops to Denerim with him and those he left are too few and too afraid of the local populace to provoke them in any way." He said. "If you announced yourself, you would have the entire teyrn behind you. They simply wait for an excuse to put them all to the sword." 

Kathryn nodded her head thoughtful and then shook herself out of it. "And now what of you?" 

Roland took a drink. "Well, I traveled with the merchants back up the mountain stopping at various towns and villages. There were a couple encounters with highwaymen and wild animals but for the most part it was uneventful. They did a good business. We left the mountains before the snows and made our way to Highever. Once there I dutifully proceeded to accomplish the task you had given me, trusting in your good faith, not at all suspecting that you would deceive and betray me in such a way." 

"I truly do not know what you are talking about." She said with a smile. "But I assume you were successful in your mission." 

"In a manner of speaking…" He said. 

"Well, quit stalling and tell me already." She said. 

"After arriving, I made inquiries and with little trouble found the residence of Helena, the widow of Ser Jory, Knight of Redcliffe and I confirmed her suspicions that her husband had died on the battlefield at Ostagar with the rest of the Grey Wardens. I offered her the coin you had given me, telling her that the Grey Wardens wished her to have it, knowing that his death would put her in financial difficulties." He said. 

"And?" Kathryn said. 

"She refused to take the money." He said. "She said that she would not take charity when she was able to work and that at present neither her son nor her wanted for anything. I told her that I had promised I would deliver it to her, bound by duty to do so, but she was resolute. So each day I would walk from the inn to her house and offer it again and each day she would refuse. I even asked around tow trying to find if I could give it to her indirectly, pay a debt on her behalf or something. I learned much about her and her situation." He took another drink. 

"It seemed that before the birth, she had been known as a local beauty, fair of face, skin soft and clear, eyes bright, hands delicate, figure lithe. But the birth had been difficult and while the child had been fine, she had nearly died. All the money they had saved was not enough to cover the many debts owed to the healers, nurses, for food and medicines and with Jory dead there was no money coming in." 

"She has worked tirelessly to pay what was owed in full and to build a life for her and her son, washing, cleaning, working in the fields. It has robbed her of much of that delicate beauty. Her face is now lined with responsibility, face blemished by the sun, hands rough and calloused from work, her lithe body now strong, eyes no longer bright with innocence but clear with wisdom. She is now not know for her beauty but well respected for her character." 

"And?" Kathryn said. 

"And so finding no other alternative, I continued to visit every day and found there was much to be done around the small cottage, repairs and such and I did what she would allow and each day she would invite me to share supper with them. I would play with the boy as she prepared the meal. He is a joy, such a loving and happy child. Despite all she has lost and suffered, she wishes most to teach her son of the beauty and joy of life." He said with a smile. "After supper, we would sit by the fire and talk. She told me that she thought Jory wouldn't recognize her she had changed so much not only in appearance but in spirit. She was a very difference person then." 

"And?" Kathryn said. 

"And when the merchants decided to move on. She told me that she would have accepted the coin after the second day but refused so that I would keep returning. I told her that I would have found a reason to return if she had accepted it on the first." He said. "When the caravan left, I remained behind." 

"And yet you are now here." Kathryn said concerned. 

"Yes, as the days passed I realized that I had to return and rejoin the fight, that I must do all I could to stop the Blight. Even more so now." He said. "When I told her she pleaded with me not to. She had already lost a husband to the Blight and didn't want to lose me as well. But I told her that I had to do this. She said that she wished to never see me again." 

Kathryn shook her head. "Please tell me that is not how you left things with her." 

"It isn't. The night before I was to return, she… came to me and said that she understood and was sorry for all she had said. I told her that when it was over I would journey back to Hunter Fell with Father and do my best to reclaim and restore it and I asked that she come with me." He said. 

"And?" Kathryn said eyes wide. 

"She said yes." He replied. 

"Oh Roland!" Kathryn said smiling wide. 

"You know, I was so sure about… us, about you and I, that we were just meant to be, that all that had happened had been to bring us together. But now I see that we would never have had what I now have with Helena and what I truly hope you have with Alistair." He said. "I feel as though I am whole, though I was never missing any part of me, as if mended though I was never broken. She seems to bring out the best in who I am and can be. I feel as though I have come home to a place I have never been." 

"I am so… so very happy for you." Kathryn said. 

"Thank you." Roland smiled. "I must ask, how did you know it would turn out this way?" 

"I didn't." She said. 

"Oh, come now. Are you expecting me to believe that you sent me to her with only the idea that I might give her coin?" He said. 

"That was the main reason, truly. I wanted to do something. Things could not have been easy for her and since you were going that way… All right it did occur to me that something might… I mean, people are attracted to similar types and while you and Jory were very different people, I figured that life may change her, as it has done to us all." She said. "Besides there was no harm in sending you her way, now was there?" 

"I cannot believe that you would deceive me so." He said. 

"Then you underestimate me." She said with a smile. 

He said. "Now I must ask of you and everyone." 

"I am… good." She said with a forced smile. 

"Why do I not believe you?" Roland looked at her concerned. "Kathryn, did something happen? Not with you and Alistair?" 

"No, no we are good. I am good… now." She sighed. "There is much to tell you." 

"Then tell me everything." He said. 

The waitress set down Roland's third dark ale and another glass of wine for Kathryn. 

Kathryn took a drink. "That's everything." 

Roland shook his head. "Kathryn, I… do not have words to say… I am… so very sorry. I… cannot even imagine what you… must have… what both of you… went through." 

"But the important thing is that it is over and we survived and that we are now good again." She said. "He was… incredible. I do not wish to think of what I would have done without him, not only to escape but to recover from it." 

"To be honest, I near expected the two of you to be married by the time I returned and after hearing all that happened, I admit to some surprise you are not." Roland said. 

"That is in truth an impossibility, with both the Couslands and the Grey Wardens being named traitors we have no standing." She said. 

"But neither are you betrothed." Roland said thoughtful. "You have discussed your future, I assume." 

"No, I mean, we have talked a bit but it seemed presumptuous to discuss a future beyond the civil war and blight when both of those things must be dealt with." She shook her head. "There is so much undetermined, so much could happen before then… there may not even be one." 

Roland considered. "That does not sound like you." 

"Perhaps I have changed." She said. 

"I doubt you have changed that much." He said. "Does this have to do with him being king?" 

"Perhaps." She said. "He has not that much experience with women and I do not want him to commit himself before he knows what is available to him and then later regret it." 

"Kathryn, that's a perfectly ridiculous thing to say and you know it." He said. "Regardless of the fact that I'm sure there are thousands of women as courageous, kind and beautiful as you are, he loves you." Roland considered. "And if you truly think he would abandon you after all you have been through, you have no business being together." 

Kathryn looked at her wine glass. Roland continued. "This is about him being king isn't it? Yes, I think I see. This isn't about what he wants but what you want." 

"That's what Alistair said." Kathryn said. 

"Well, I believe he is right and I can do him one better in this for I have known you longer." Roland said. "This is about what you want or perhaps better what you have always wanted." 

"All your life you wanted to do something important. You talked of this even when you were little more than a child. You wanted to do more than what was expected of you which was, of course, to marry well, run a noble's household and bear his children and you wanted to do it yourself." He said. "I saw the parade of nobles that came to Highever seeking your hand, who wanted you as their wife because of your name and beauty and how your mother tried again and again to make a match for you and how you resisted, indeed fought it with all you had." 

"And now you have achieved something on your own, something important. You lead the battle against the Blight. You are the Warden Commander of Ferelden." He said. "And you have met a man of character and quality to fight beside you, who loves and respects you for more than your name or beauty and I believe with all my heart that if he were no more than a Grey Warden you would marry him in a moment, despite his commoner or even bastard status, perhaps the more because of it. Proudly exerting your independence by doing so." 

"But now with him being king you must choose, between your life and his. He will not be able to follow you as he has been. You will not be in charge all the time. Being with him means you must give up some of your independence, give up some of that freedom to take on the responsibilities of queen." He said. "So, are you willing to give up what you have earned for what you gain by doing no more than being his wife?" 

Kathryn looked down and took a drink of wine. 

"I know that when you think about it, you hear your mother's voice talking about what a good match it is and can hear the other noble ladies wonder if you didn't plan it all along and speak how that while you had talked about doing something important and on your own but when it came down to it you gave it all up for a man." He said. "Somehow by marrying him, you feel as though you are betraying yourself by unwittingly doing exactly what everyone expected of you, betraying all you said you wanted and have worked for." 

Kathryn stared into her wine. 

"You cannot have everything, Kathryn. So it comes down to what do you want more? You told me that he now has the strength to do what he wants despite all expectation. Now, I ask you: do you have the strength to do what you want despite it being what everyone expected?" He asked. "What is it exactly that you are you trying to prove, Kathryn? And to whom? And if I may speak plainly: Is your happiness worth your pride? That is a question only you can answer." 

Kathryn took a drink of wine and then another and then finished the glass in a last gulp. "We should get back." 

66.2 Alistair 

"Have you seen Kathryn?" Alistair asked the servant as she walked by. 

"Not since she left for the tavern, ser." She answered. 

"I have, ser. She is just returned and she had a human man with her." The other servant said. "I didn't recognize him." 

"What did he look like?" Alistair asked. 

"Tall, strong, red hair." She said. 

"Oh." Alistair said. He knew who that was. Not that he wasn't glad he was back. They needed all the help they could get but he hadn't left on the best of terms and well, things with him and Kathryn had just gotten back to a good place. 

"Where are they now?" He asked the servant. 

"In the main hall, ser." She replied. 

"Thank you." He said. 

He stepped into the hall and saw Kathryn, Leliana, Wynne and Roland talking. Roland looked good. Kathryn looked up as soon as he stepped into the hall. As he approached Roland looked up. 

"Hello." Roland said. 

"It is good to see you. How are you?" Alistair said a bit flat. 

"Well, very well, much better than when I left." Roland said. 

"Good. Are you just visiting or…" Alistair said. 

"No, I wish to rejoin you all, and see this through." Roland said. "As long as no one has any objections." 

"I can't think why anyone would object." Alistair said. 

"I can." Roland said. "I wish to apologize to you for my actions before I left." 

"Really, there is no…" Alistair stopped and then considered. "Accepted." He said warmly and held his hand out for Roland. "Welcome back." 

Roland smiled and took the offered hand. "Thank you." 

"And you must congratulate him, for when this is done, he wishes to be married." Kathryn said. 

Alistair felt a sharp jab to his chest. He looked at Kathryn who he now noticed looked incredibly happy and then to Roland who look not only pleased but amused. He sincerely hoped that he would find as much humor in the situation. "To whom, if I may ask?" He said. 

"Helena of Highever." Roland said quickly. 

Alistair felt the relief, not that he had been worried… but… "Wait, I know that name. Isn't that…" 

"Ser Jory's widow, yes." Kathryn said. "When he left I asked him to find her, and tell her that he had died on the battlefield at Ostagar and to give her some money and as much assistance as he could, as is the custom of the Grey Wardens." 

"Uh… right. Yes, that was good of you to think of that." Alistair said sharing a look with Kathryn. 

"Once this is done, and the darkspawn are defeated, I intend to go back to Hunter Fell with Father and to bring her and the boy with me." Roland said. 

"Well, congratulations." Alistair said. 

"Thank you." Roland said. 

"Pardon, my lady." The servant said to Kathryn. 

"Yes?" She replied. 

"The Arl sent me to find you and wishes you to speak to you in his study as soon as convenient." The servant said. "It seems he has a visitor." 

66.3 Kathryn 

"I guess it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway, this is probably a trap and even if it isn't… is walking into the proverbial wolf's den really a good idea?" Alistair said. 

"Probably not." Kathryn said. "But if we can get Anora on our side, if she has truly turned against Loghain, her voice in the Landsmeet could make all the difference. The risk is very high, but the potential rewards makes it an opportunity we cannot pass up." 

She turned to Roland. "It seems you have come at just in time. Are you ready for this?" 

"Absolutely." Roland said. 

"Good." She turned to the servant. "Go tell the mage Jowan, he is needed." 

"Yes, my lady." She hurried off. 

Kathryn started talking to herself. "While he might hire a elf, dwarf or even a quanri, it would make us stand out. Another female human would be less conspicuous." 

"But I thought you said there were only four uniforms." Alistair said. 

"I did." She said. 

"No, no, Kathryn. I'm not staying behind." Alistair said. 

"Alistair, this is incredibly risky. We can't risk both of us." She said. "We are too close to the Landsmeet. I have no doubt that Loghain and Howe have a 'kill on sight' order for us." 

"Then you're more at risk because they know what you look like, they have a sketch of you." He said. 

"They all know what you look like because you look just like Cailan! You can't go. As Eamon said, without you Loghain wins by default." She said. "If this is a trap, which seems likely, you have to survive it." 

Alistair looked down and then turned away. After a moment he turned back. "That's the first time, you know." 

"First time?" She said. 

"That you've ever treated me differently because of my blood." He said. 

"Alistair…" 

"No." He said stern. "If you don't survive, Ferelden is lost and it won't matter who is king. Besides I am safer standing next to you than anywhere else in the Maker's world… as you are with me." Alistair stepped to her and took her head in his hands. "We do this together." 

Kathryn finally started to nod. "All right." 

"Besides, do you really think I would let you walk into Howe's estate without me?" He said. 

"I guess not." She said. "But if you get killed, I'll never forgive you." 

"Fair enough." He said. 

66.4 Zevran 

Zevran looked over his room. He had asked for an extra blanket. Denerim and the Arl's estate was more comfortable than most places they had slept but still he thought to take advantage of the hospitality of the Arl. Besides Sigrun often stole the covers. 

As he looked around the room there was no blanket. No doubt the servant forgot in all the excitement of having so many people staying at the estate. He went out to track one down. He found the laundry room and addressed one of the better looking female servants. 

"My dear, if it would not be any trouble, could I get an extra blanket?" He asked. 

"It's no trouble." She said and walked over to a bench picked up a thick woolen blanket and handed it to him. 

"I thank you and my cold feet thank you." He said. 

"Well, you know the best way to stay warm during the long Ferelden nights is to have someone to warm the bed for you. If you require such service, let me know and I'll see what I can do." She said. 

"Ah, yes. The offer is appreciated, my dear, but I will have to pass. My bed is full at the moment." He said. 

"I see." She said disappointed but not overly so. 

"But do tell the black headed girl that I have my blanket and she need not worry about getting me another." He said. 

"There is no black headed elf at the estate. She must have been from the market, making a delivery." She said. 

"Oh, yes that must have…" Zevran stopped thoughtful. "Kathryn… Kathryn and Alistair where are they?" He said suddenly frantic. 

"They left. With a red headed human man and the male human mage." She said concerned. 

"Where… when… where did they go and when did they leave?" He said. 

"I'm not sure." She said. 

"Think, please, it is most important." He said. 

"Um… Oh, yes, that's right. They went to the Arl of Denerim's estate and it was right before I put the linens in to soak, so about half past." She said. 

"Thank you." He said as he ran out of the room. 

"You forgot your blanket!" She called after him. 

Zevran ran back to his room, cursing himself as he went. He had been waiting for something like this, watching for it, expecting it even, but so much time had passed, he had gotten complacent. He arrived at his room and grabbed his weapons, poisons and grenades. 

"Zevran." He heard Sigrun say behind him. "I was looking for you… what's wrong?" 

"I must go. Now. There is no time to explain. I am sorry." He said. 

"It's the Crows, isn't it? They've come after you, haven't they?" She said. 

"They are going to ambush the Wardens. I must warn them, stop them if I can." He said as he looked at her and then quickly walked past her. 

"I'm coming with you." She said. 

He stopped and turned back to her. "No, my dear, please, do not. I cannot… promise me, you will not. That you will stay here. Please." 

"But Zevran… yes, I promise." She said resigned. "But only if you promise to come back." 

Zevran looked at her and then turned quickly and left. 

66.5 Sigrun 

Sigrun watched Zevran leave and then walked over to the bed and sat down on it. After a while one of the elven servants came into the room and dropped off an extra blanket. She asked if Sigrun was all right and if she needed anything. Sigrun said she was fine and didn't need anything. After the servant left. Sigrun wrapped herself in the blanket and waited. 

Finally Zevran came back into the room. She looked up at him but didn't move. He came and sat next to her on the bed. 

"Is it over?" She asked. 

"I believe so." He said. "They will assume I died in the attack, especially if I make myself scare." 

"What do you mean?" She asked. 

"If I stay out of their sight and do not draw attention to myself, I believe I will be safe." He said. "The best thing I believe would be for me to leave the Wardens' company. Not only would it be the smart thing to do but there is a freedom waiting for me that I have never known." 

"I see." Sigrun said. 

"You could come with me." He said. "There is much of the world to see, wonders to behold." 

Sigrun looked down and then back to Zevran. "I could, but I won't." 

"Are you determined to throw you life at the feet of the darkspawn?" He asked. 

"No, not anymore." She said. "But I like the surface, the plants and trees, bugs and dirt, mountains and sky and if someone doesn't stop the Blight it all will be destroyed." 

"It is not your responsibility to see the world is safe." Zevran said. 

"Isn't it? Isn't it everyone's?" She said. "We could run but won't it find us? If everyone ran, then everyone dies. I don't want that to happen." 

"I see." Zevran said and looked away. "Well, if that is the case…" 

"No, don't, please." She said. "Let's just have supper and be together and fall asleep, like we have been and if you're not here in the morning… I'll know why." 

"If that is what you want." He said. 

"Yes." She said. "It is." 

Chapter 67: Denerim Part II 

67.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn pulled her dagger from the back of one of Howe's men. She was wounded and exhausted and overbalanced, falling back. She landed on the cold stone floor of the dungeon as pain shot through her hip. Before she could even try to stand Alistair was sitting beside her. He helped her sit up and then with authority pulled her back to lean against him. 

"I'm fine." She said weakly but didn't resist. 

"Sure you are, but the rest of us need a break." He said. 

Jowan put his hand on her head for a moment and then handed her a potion. "Drink this." 

"You know what happened the last time someone said that to me?" She said as she took the potion and drank it. Jowan smiled at Alistair and then went to check on Roland. 

They had made it inside Howe's Denerim estate without much trouble, the disguises that Erlinda had obtained for them had worked. But when they found Anora she was trapped inside her room by a magical lock. They had proceeded into the estate's dungeon to try to find the mage responsible. They had also learned that Howe was at the estate. 

But they had discovered more in the dungeons: Riordan, a Grey Warden from Orlais; Oswin, the son of a noble; Immeric, a templar knight; Vaughn, the son of the previous Arl of Denerim and others. They had released them all, even Vaughn. Kathryn wanted to eviscerate him but they may need his vote in the Landsmeet. She promised herself and those who he had hurt that she would see to it that he had a very painful and fatal accident as soon as the blight was ended. 

But now they had to find the mage and get out of here. Every moment they spent here increased the danger they were in. She took a deep breath, sat up and looked at Alistair. "We need to get going." 

"All right." He said, knowing she was right. She looked around and found one last closed door. She looked at the others and seeing they were ready for whatever lie behind it, opened it. 

"Well, look here. Bryce Couslands's little spitfire, all grown up and still playing the man." Howe said as they entered. "I never thought you'd be fool enough to turn up here. Then I never thought you'd live, either." 

"I can see why you might think that considering you sent your men to murder all of us in the middle of the night!" She said. Her voice strong, calm, angry. 

"So, this is about your family, is it?" Howe said disdainful. "I have wiped your name from Ferelden memory. All that's left of them is a fool husk of a daughter likely to end her days under a rock in the Deep Roads." He said smug. "Even the Wardens are gone. You're the last of nothing. You've lost." 

Kathryn had to smile. "You lie, Howe. To yourself most of all. You say I've lost? Oh no. Even taking all away from me, as you did, I have made something of myself, with the power to gather an army under my command and challenge kings or at least those who pretend to be." 

"If I do end up under a rock in the deep roads, I will be remembered and mourned, as Father is, but you will be forgotten before you are cold." She said. "You sought to take away all Father had but you can't. Even with all the titles and land, you are not half the man he was. You did not even have the courage to face him yourself." 

"What have you really?" She asked as Howe's smirk slowly dissolved. "The title of a land that hates you? The ear of a king that barely tolerates you? Power that can be easily taken from you since you stole it from others? You have not the respect of your peers and not the loyalty of your subjects, and no one to mourn you when I send you to the Maker, if he can even bear to look upon you." 

"You are a coward and if you are remembered at all, it will be for that." She said. 

"There it is. Right there! That damned look in the eye that every Cousland has." He said considering. "It would appear that you have made something of yourself after all. Your father would be proud. I, on the other hand, want you dead more than ever." 

Alistair took that as a cue and smited one of the mages as Jowan sent a fireball to the far end of the room. Kathryn drew her bow as Howe pulled out his axe. Not yet, she thought. Play it smart. She aimed and pinned Howe's legs taking him out of the fight for the moment. She took out her daggers and attacked the mage. 

Kathryn saw Howe free himself and then attacked Alistair's flank. Her job was as always to keep attackers off of him. She attacked Howe, knocking him back. Howe recovered quickly and attacked her. He was still strong, still quick even at his age. He also had the advantage of not having fought his way through a legion of his men. He even had the advantage of hate, for as much as she hated him for what he had done to her and those she loved, he hated her more. He hated her for who she was, for all she represented which was his own failures and failings and then of course he was simply better at hating since he'd had more practice. 

She blocked and dodged and then countered but was forced back. She wanted her revenge, wanted him dead and wanted to look him in the eye as she killed him. But there were more important things… like surviving. She could not afford to get wrapped up in revenge, to allow her emotions to run away with her but had to fight to her strength, especially since she was exhausted and weakening. Howe wanted her dead. He would take a risk, make a mistake and she would be ready to capitalize on it. She had waited months, months that now seemed like years for this moment, she could wait a bit longer. 

Then she saw Howe's face as he watched his men start to fall and realized that he had lost, that he would not leave this dungeon alive. The desperation then turned to determination. His look told her that he had decided that if he was to fall he was going to take her with him. His last act would be to destroy all of the ones he blamed for his failings. He attacked with no care to his own welfare or survival. Kathryn tried to block, deflect and parry but the strikes were too many and too strong. She was driven to the ground. She was weak, exhausted, the pain was intense, she was light-headed, her vision blurry. As drops of blood rolled down her face, she could see Howe advance on her. 

So much for playing it safe and smart and waiting for him to make a mistake, she thought. She had nothing left, no strength or will, only grief and anger. She had kept them under control. She'd had to in order to survive, to escape the castle, to lead the fight against the Blight. But she was also afraid of their strength. She feared being overwhelmed, losing control, but now she was too exhausted to stop them and too close to having her revenge to push them away. They washed over her but she didn't feel out of control, not engulfed by the fires of passion or hate, not consumed or even overwhelmed by them. She felt them, and their strength. It burned through her, yes but it was like… ice. 

He looked up at Howe and everything seemed clear. She could not allow Howe his victory, not allow his crimes to go unpunished. She would have her revenge and have it in blood. From the floor, she kicked him in the leg. She got to her feet and then punched him. He stumbled, recovered and attacked. This time she didn't wait, didn't dodge or parry but charged. A flurry of blows and blocks, sounds of metal on metal. In desperation, Howe took a great cut at her. At the last moment, she went to her knees. The swing passed over her head as she brought up her daggers and buried them in Howe's stomach. Twisting the blades into him, till only the hilt and pommel could be seen and then she kicked him away, the blades ripping through his body. He fell onto his back. She stood, looking over him. As his blood dripped off her daggers, he looked up to her. 

"Maker spit on you." He said with as much spite as his dying body could muster. "I deserved… more…" He fell back and died. 

Kathryn listened to his last breath escape him, watched his blood run over the stones in the floor and into the cracks, filling them, just as her father's had. He had been right about one thing, he did deserve more. He deserved to die a thousand times for what he had done, but no more than this could be torn from him. 

Her strength seemed to run out of her. She was on her knees. There was so much grief. But she couldn't weep for them… not grieve for them…not now… they had to leave… they had to get out of here… they were in danger… and… She buried her face in her hands as she felt Alistair's arms around her. He gently laid her head on his shoulder as she began to sob. 

"It's all right." He said as he gently rocked her. "It's over. It's over now." 

67.2 Kathryn 

They made their way up the dungeon stairs and back to Anora's room. She was dressed as a guard, apparently as a disguise to fool any of Howe's or Loghain's men. Kathryn didn't really think it would help, given her demeanor was one of a noble lady and not a soldier and that she was too short to be a guard anyway but she hoped it wouldn't matter since they were less than thirty paces from the front gate. 

But as they entered the foyer they found it was filled with soldiers. 

Ser Cauthrine stepped forward. "Warden, surrender and you may be shown mercy." 

"Ha! That's a laugh." Alistair said. Kathryn looked around. Too many, there were too many for them to fight their way out and these weren't even normal soldiers but Loghain's elite troops. The crossfire from the crossbows alone would probably kill all of them within moments. They were trapped. 

"If I surrender, will you allow the others to leave." Kathryn said. 

"What!? It doesn't matter." Alistair said. "I'm not leaving you and I'll be damned if I'll surrender to Loghain." 

"And neither will I." Roland said. 

"Just for the record, I would abandon all of you in less than three seconds." Jowan said. 

"Good to know." Alistair said thoughtful. 

Kathryn shook her head holding Ser Cauthrine's eyes. "No, we are outnumbered." 

Three… 

"We cannot hope to defeat them here." She said. 

Two… 

She sighed. "Our only hope is…" 

One. 

"…to... NOW!" She cried. 

Jowan threw the fireball across the room as Alistair stepped in front of them holding up his shield to cover them from both the blast and the archers. As soon as Jowan released the fireball, he ran from the room and back into the hall and immediately started to cast. Roland and Kathryn turned away from the blast. Once it was over Roland grabbed Kathryn pulling her from the room and into the hall. He ducked into the doorway and grabbed Alistair's arm, pulling him out of the room as bolts from the many crossbows pummeled his shield. 

"After them!" Ser Cauthrine yelled as she got to her feet. 

Kathryn looked to Jowan. He was glowing with an intense red light and then it went out. Kathryn could feel the heat coming from the foyer. Hot, blistering winds swirled around the doorway as the soldiers inside screamed. Ser Cauthrine and several of the melee troops barely made it through the doorway in time, but now the odds were more even. 

Within only a few minutes the fight was over. Ser Cauthrine stood alone of Loghain's troops. Kathryn smiled at her trying hard not to sound smug and failing. "You know, if you surrender you may be shown mercy." 

Ser Cauthrine glared at her as she backed up, maneuvering to the doorway. She threw her two handed sword down at Kathryn's feet and using the momentary distraction, ran. Jowan started to cast but Kathryn held up her hand. "Let her go." 

"You sure?" He said. 

"No, but it's done." She said as she heard the estate doors open. "She is a good woman and believes the word of a man she… cares for. I am not above handing out mercy even if not asked." 

"Yes, thank the Maker for that." Jowan said with a smile. 

Kathryn looked around. "Didn't we have a queen with us at some point?" 

"Yes." Alistair said. "I noticed she disappeared as soon as there was trouble. Seems to be a theme with her." 

"Indeed." Kathryn said. "No doubt, she is resting from her trying ordeal at the Arl's estate. Let's get out of here already." 

67.3 Kathryn 

"If I might make a suggestion," Eamon said. "Go speak with Anora. She will either be a powerful enemy or a powerful ally, best we know as soon as possible which it will be." 

Kathryn nodded. They had made their way back to the estate and Anora had told them about the unrest in the alienage. She had also made her case that she would be a better candidate for the throne than Alistair and finally had asked to speak to Kathryn, alone. 

Alistair had not spoken during the conversation with Anora but allowed her to speak about him as though he wasn't there. Perhaps she thought he wasn't listening, but Kathryn knew better. 

She turned and walked out of the room, as she slowly made her way down the hall. She thought to clean up a bit, perhaps get a drink or even a snack. She was stalling, sure but this would be a battle, or better yet, akin to a match of the king's game. Anora had already made the first move by asking for her to come and speak with her alone. She had had time to plan out her strategy and had chosen the ground for the fight. Kathryn would choose the time and use the delay to plan her next moves carefully, for everything, including the fate of Ferelden itself, may depend on who won. 

67.4 Alistair 

Alistair had listened to the discussion with Anora but he would wait to see what she had to say to Kathryn before doing or saying anything. Right now there was someone else he wanted to talk to. He found out that Riordan had made it to the estate and was resting in one of the upstairs guest rooms. He knocked quietly on the door. 

"Come in." Riordan said. 

Alistair opened the door and saw Riordan sitting up in the bed going over the papers they had found in the Arl's room. "Oh, yes Alistair, please come in." He said with a smile as he put the papers down. 

"I thought to check and see how you were doing. If I'm not disturbing you." Alistair said. 

"No, you are not disturbing me at all. Please have a seat." Riordan said as he indicated the chair by the small table. "I am much improved since you saw me last. The healer did a remarkable job and said that I shall be fine in a few days. Apparently the Arl did nothing that is beyond a healer's skill. Others, it seems, were not so fortunate." He said sadly. "But there is much to do and time to mourn later." 

Alistair sat down. "I had a few questions about some things, if you don't mind and are up to it." 

"Most certainly. What do you wish to discuss?" Riordan said. 

Alistair rubbed the back of his neck. "I… I wanted to ask you… you said you went to Ostagar and got the names of the… the dead. Did you… did you find… Duncan?" 

Riordan smiled a bittersweet smile. "Yes. I did." 

Alistair looked down. "We went back but all we found were his sword and dagger. I knew he would never leave them there if he…" Alistair swallowed hard. "Was he… did he…" 

"He had only one significant injury, but one sufficient to cause death and thankfully, death by such a blow would be instant. He was unmolested by the darkspawn. In fact I believe where I found him is where he fell." Riordan said. 

Alistair looked down and rubbed his eyes. Riordan continued. "I took all those I could find and burned them, saw them to the Maker myself. It was the least I could do." 

"I… thank you." Alistair said. "I know you didn't… but… thank you." 

Riordan looked at Alistair and considered. "Duncan wrote to me and said that he had told you that the nightmares had begun for him." 

"Yes, he told me that." Alistair said. 

"Duncan was a private man. He kept his thoughts and feelings, his problems and troubles to himself. We are the only two who knew and for him to tell one that he had known only months and a junior member of the order is something I would not have thought of him. It shows what trust he had in you." Riordan said. "And in all our correspondence, he spoke not only very highly of you but warmly too." 

Alistair stood and walked over to the window and stared into the setting sun. Finally he turned back to Riordan. "There is one more thing I wish to talk to you about." 

"And what would that be?" Riordan asked. 

Chapter 68: Denerim Part III 

68.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn stepped out of Anora's room, closing the door behind her. She smiled and then laughed quietly and ran her fingers through hair. 

It had been a long day, a long and exhausting day. She was tired and hungry. She should have asked for her room to be made up for the night, fire made, a plate of food to be brought and a whole bottle of that really excellent red wine the Arl had. She just wanted to be alone for a while, totally and completely alone and by that she meant alone with Alistair. But probably he was in the main dining hall with the rest, along with all the servants. She wasn't sure she had the strength or will to be among everyone. She may just go to bed. 

She opened the door to her room. It was pleasantly warm and bright. She saw Alistair put down his glass of wine and stand up. There were two plates of food, two glasses and a bottle of that really good red wine on the low table. She looked at it and then at him. 

"I thought that you'd want to eat up here alone. Long day and all." He said. Kathryn noted that not only did her definition of her being alone include him but so did his. She saw that his plate was half gone. "Sorry. I was hungry and I didn't know how long you'd be." 

She shook her head. He looked concerned. "Was this not the right thing?" 

"No, it is the perfect thing." She said laughing as she walked up to him, hugging and then kissing him. The tender kiss got more intense. Alistair pulled back. "You should eat…first." He said smiling. He poured her a glass of wine as she sat on the couch and attacked the plate of roast mutton. They ate and talked of Roland's return and betrothal, the decorations of the estate, Zevran's and Sigrun's relationship, the layout of the bedroom, the correct way to cook lamb and theories of oratory. 

Alistair poured them the last of the wine as they sat by the fire. "Rough day, huh?" He said. 

"Yes, most definitely. She replied. 

"Are you all right?" He asked her. 

"Fine." She said. "You act like gutting the man that murdered my entire family would be upsetting or something." 

"Is it?" He said. 

Kathryn considered. "Yes… no… I don't… it doesn't… feel the way I thought it would." She said. "I thought there would be some satisfaction or feeling of accomplishment or something, but there isn't. The anger is gone, spent but there is nothing to take its place. I just feel empty. I thought killing him would help, but it didn't. The anger was better. The empty feeling is so much worse." 

"I'm glad he's dead, I am. He needed to die not only for all he has done, but to prevent him doing worse. A bit like killing a rabid dog. But with revenge being always in my thoughts, it was like it… it kept them with me. I couldn't forget. I wouldn't allow myself to forget. Now it's over and there is nothing to do but… grieve, and then eventually to move on and... forget." She said. 

"Kathryn, you won't forget them. They're your family." He said. 

"No, not completely, of course not, but… they will be a memory only. A part of my past and no longer part of my life." She said. "Soon there will be an hour where I don't think about them, then two and then a whole day will pass when I won't think of them. When the events and people, responsibilities, the present's joys and sorrows take all my thoughts. One day, I'll forget exactly the sound of father's voice… of mother's laugh… of…" She stopped and stared into the fire. "Can we not talk about this anymore?" 

"Sure..." He said, stroking her hair. They watched the fire for a while and then Alistair said. "Well, speaking of diabolical evil, what did Anora want to talk to you about?" 

"Ouch! You don't think much of her, do you?" Kathryn said. 

"No, but I don't think she thinks much of me either. I guess someone told her I was planning on stealing her throne." He said. "She wants to be queen. I get it. I don't trust her any more than her father, but I get it." 

"People like her and her father always think they're the only ones who can fix things. So everyone should just stay out of their way." He said. 

"You don't think she should be queen?" Kathryn asked. 

"No, she probably should be. That doesn't mean she's going to be." He said. "If she wanted to be queen so badly she shouldn't have let Loghain be named regent. She should have been one when Ferelden needed her to be. Even when it was clear Loghain was not acting in the best interests of the country, she stood by and did nothing. If she was able to rule, then why didn't she?" 

"Well, apparently she wishes to remedy that. She wanted to make a deal, her support for mine in the Landsmeet." Kathryn said. 

"Oh? Smart." Alistair said with equal parts respect and contempt. "I wouldn't be surprised if that's why she arranged to be here to begin with." 

"You think so?" Kathryn asked. 

"Sure. You can't tell me that she doesn't have anyone else she could have called to help her. But she calls you. 'The enemy of my enemy…' and the person who might have the most to say about who is the leader of Ferelden when it's all over." He said. 

Alistair shook his head. "She wants to make a deal, does she? I mean, what if you don't agree? Will she not support us? That's how it sounds to me. Loghain can't be allowed to stay in charge, not with the blight and the civil war and the riots and everything else. But even with all that, she is only interested in her own power and no doubt whatever gets her that, is what she will do. It doesn't matter if there is a country left at all as long as she is in charge of it." 

"You know, there is another option here. One that many would say would the best solution, a perfect one in fact." She said. 

"And that would be?" He asked. 

"You could marry her." She said. 

"Marry her? As in marriage? As in be her husband? Did you talk to her about this? Did she bring it up?" He said stunned. "I can't believe that, that she would… actually I can. I believe she would do anything to stay in power even marry me." He said and then shook his head. "What I don't believe is that you're bringing it up." 

"Someone else might and you need to know what your answer is." She said. 

"It's 'No!'." He said. "I don't trust Anora any more than her father. And I'm certainly not going to marry her." 

"That arrangement could be seen as the best compromise for peace." She said. 

"I don't think compromise is what's needed here, at all." He said. "You compromise when there is no clear cut answer, no true right or wrong. Here there is. We walk into the Landsmeet talking 'compromise' and we've already lost." 

"That's what I thought you'd say." She said smiling. 

"So, what did you tell her." He said. 

"I told her I'd support her bid for the throne." She said. 

"What?! You said you would… what!?" He said shocked. 

"I thought you'd be happy about that." She said. "You never wanted the throne anyway and this way we can stay together, no matter what. We could continue to fight against the Blight just as we have been and when that is done we go back to Highever. It's perfect." 

"Except for the part where Anora's queen." He said. 

"Well, perhaps she isn't the best ruler and more concerned for her own power than Ferelden but as long as those goals are the same, it should be fine. She did rule on Cailan's behalf for the past five years and many of the nobility would support her." She said. "I thought you wanted us to be together more than anything, or isn't that what you want?" 

Alistair rubbed his forehead and then looked at her. "I do want that, but I can't turn my back on my duty and responsibilities. I can't. I just can't. It isn't in me." He said standing. "Look, we will make it work, but not like this." 

"She let Loghain take over and nearly destroy the country. Sure she ruled here the last five years but nothing happened during that time. It is easy to rule in peacetime. But the moment there was trouble what did she do? She went and hid behind her father. She's never said a thing against him, never made any move to stop him and still hasn't." He said as he started to pace in front of the fire. 

"Even now she wants you to fight her battle for her and make her queen instead of fighting for it herself. Like she is somehow entitled. How is she going to lead Ferelden if she won't even fight for the right to? How can she stand up to the Blight if can't even stand up to her own father? She only cares about having power, not what is best for Ferelden. Do you really think that she would give her life to protect the country and its people?" He said, his voice getting louder as he went. 

"So, what would you have me do?" Kathryn said. 

"If you have the choice, you make me king." He said sure. "She is not an option." 

Kathryn smiled and shook her head. "You seem so certain." 

"Shouldn't I be?" He said. "I can do this." 

"Really?" She said. " Convince me." 

"Look, I I may not know politics the way she does, not yet anyway but I can learn and right now I know what needs to be done. I can get our armies marching toward the Blight." He said. "I can lead the country through this, through the battles ahead, through the recovery and the rebuilding. I can make Ferelden strong again. I can." 

"I see." She said. 

"Kathryn, you can't possibly be thinking about supporting her." He said almost desperate. 

"I'm not." She said. 

"What? You're... But you said…" He said confused. 

Kathryn smiled and shook her head. "You asked what I told her, and I told her I would support her. But I have no intention of doing so. As you say, she wants to make a deal and if I didn't agree, she may side with Loghain, thinking it is her best bet to get power. I'm not going to rescue her just to have her betray us at the Landsmeet, so I lied. It's a tried and true political strategy. And as you know I am not above deceit, especially in order to get people to do the right thing." 

Alistair rubbed the back of his neck and took several deep breaths. "Good. For a moment I thought…" He laughed. 

"Thought what?" She asked. 

"… thought that… you didn't believe I could do it." He said. 

"I know you can." She said. "But what's more important is that you believe it and I think that you finally do. And what's even more interesting than that, is that I think you actually want to." 

"I never did." He said looking into the fire. 

"And now?" She said standing. 

"Now… I…" He turned to her. "I… I don't know." 

"Yes, you do." She said. "You know, you just can't admit it. But you have to admit it to yourself at least. So that you can stand in front of the nobility and convince them that a boy who slept in a hayloft can lead the country through the worst possible thing they can imagine. And the fact that you want that opportunity, after all you've been taught and told, says everything." 

"I…" He turned away for a long moment and then turned back. He took a deep breath, stood tall and looked her in the eye. "I do want to be king. And I can do it. I can rule Ferelden and lead this country through the blight and help it rebuild. I… I can do this. I'm ready." 

68.2 Sigrun 

Sigrun woke up. There was sunlight streaming through the window. Zevran had told her how to tell time by the position of the sun in the sky and as best she could tell it was nearly afternoon. 

"Zevran!" She said and sat up looking around the room but he wasn't there. She figured that he wouldn't be but she had hoped… 

They had dined and talked and made love long into the night. He was now free of the Crows and he had said the best thing for him to do was to leave, to grab hold of the freedom waiting him. He had asked her to go with him and maybe she should… but no. She wanted to see the Blight ended and had told him so. She had hoped that he would stay, but… 

She was disappointed, deeply. She liked Zevran, more than anyone she had ever met, and despite the fact that she was dead and he a hunted assassin, she had hoped… they might… 

Hoped… maybe that was the most important thing he had given her… hope. That's why she had joined the Legion because she had no more hope left and now… she hoped. She hoped to see him again, hoped he found that freedom he wanted so badly and it was everything he imagined, hoped to see the sea, the blooming flowers of Antiva, the dessert, the jungles, hoped he would be safe and most of all, she hoped he missed her… just a little bit. 

The door opened. "Ah my dear, I see you are now awake." Zevran said as he placed a large tray filled with food on the low table. "It seemed we missed breakfast but the servants were most helpful in giving me directions to the best Orleasian bakery in Denerim. Apple, pear and blackberry pastries and hot black tea. From what I hear it is a most delightful breakfast." 

Sigrun looked at him. "I didn't think…" 

"I know." He said. "I admit I considered leaving, but what is freedom but the chance to gain all that you want. Here I have a place I am respected and valued, people I consider friends and… more. Truly, what else do I need?" He smiled. "Except breakfast. Come, you must eat. I hope you like blackberry." 

"Me too." She said. 

68.3 Kathryn 

Alistair, Wynne, Zevran, Sigrun and Kathryn were headed to the alienage to investigate the rioting and general unrest going on there. But before that they had a stop to make. Riordan had told them about a cache of weapons and armor the Grey Wardens kept in a warehouse in the market district, emergency supplies for just such occasions when the Grey Warden compound was not... accessible. It also served as extra storage. They found the door to the room behind a cabinet and after a bit of effort they were able to disengage the lock. They found several useful items and supplies. And while Kathryn understood wanting to keep the location and combination secret, she wished they had known about and had access to this earlier. 

Wynne, Zevran and Sigrun headed back to the alley, as Kathryn made one final check of the area as was her habit. Kathryn noticed a crate in the back behind a chest. There was a thick layer of dust on it. As she examined it, she could see that the crate had been opened and then re-nailed shut. With some effort, she opened it. Inside she found a shield emblazoned with the symbol of the Grey Wardens. But it was unlike the standard Grey Warden shields. It was better quality, stronger heavier material, the crest more elaborate and detailed. She noticed that there was not a scratch on it. In fact, the straps had never even been buckled. It was in perfect, pristine condition. It occurred to her that this had all the trapping of a ceremonial shield but was clearly made for war. 

As she looked over it, she couldn't help but noticed the exquisite workmanship and attention to detail, then the weight, shape, balance of it. She realized it wasn't a shield just anyone could use. Only an expert or master of the discipline could make full use of it, utilize it to its full potential. It was truly a shield befitting a general or king or a... Warden Commander. Of course, she thought, this was probably given to Duncan upon his assuming the leadership of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden. Such events are often marked by the giving of shields. But Duncan fought with a sword and dagger, he couldn't use the shield and given the very high level of skill needed to wield it, there was probably no one with the Grey Wardens who could, which is why it was here and not at the compound or with him at Ostagar. 

Kathryn smiled widely and then taking a moment to collect herself and putting a slightly confused look on her face, called for Alistair. 

"Yes, my dear, what do you… what's that?" He asked. 

"I don't know. I was going to ask you. " She said. "Do you have any idea?" 

Alistair looked over the shield as his eyes widened. "It's Duncan's shield! It has to be." He said incredulous as he ran his hands over it. "When he became Warden Commander, they presented it to him. But what is it doing here? Why didn't he have it with him?" 

"It's never been used." She said. 

"What?" He said. 

"There isn't a mark on it." She said. "I thought it might be a ceremonial shield, but it isn't. It's made for battle." 

"I don't understand. Why wouldn't you use such a shield?" He said. 

"Duncan used a sword and dagger. I doubt he could use a shield at least not one like that." Kathryn said. 

"Even so." He said running his hand over the face of it. "Someone could have." 

"I'm not so sure." She said. "I know enough about such things to know that's a exquisite shield, you would need a very high level of skill to wield it effectively. Perhaps there wasn't anyone with the warden's who had the skill to use it… at least… not then." 

Alistair examined the shield closer. "You're right, it is. It's beautiful." Alistair said under his breath. He looked away. "You... you're Warden Commander, so it's yours now. You should have it." He said. 

Kathryn smiled. "Perhaps, except that I can't use it either. I could put it on the wall but that seems like such a waste, particularly since we are fighting a Blight, the very thing it was designed to combat." She said. 

"And especially since there is someone who can make use of it, who just happens to have the skill and talent to take full advantage of it." She said. Alistair looked up to her. "So, in my capacity as Warden Commander, I lay claim to it and bestow it to you." 

"Kathryn…" Alistair said. 

"Besides, didn't you say you wanted something to remember him by?" She said. "And most important of all, I truly believe that Duncan would want you to have it." 

Alistair looked back to the shield. "I did say that and this... is... perfect." He looked up to Kathryn. "I... I don't know what to say. This means... a great deal to me." 

"Well, I have heard that 'thank you' is the generally accepted response when someone gives you something." She said with a smile. 

"I... of course... thank you." He said. 

"You should try it out." She said. Alistair picked up the shield and after adjusting the straps several times, he got set and then took several swings with it. "What do you think?" She said. 

"It is an exceptional shield, perfectly balanced. It's just... perfect. A bit heavier than I'm used to but that's a slight adjustment and a bit of practice." He said as he pulled out his sword. 

It occurred to Kathryn that he was now equipped with his father's sword and his father's shield. Without those two men he would not be who he was. As he walked through the steps and moves, he looked every bit of what he was turning into… a warrior king. Perfectly positioned by birth and training to stop a civil war and fight a blight and the only person in Thedas through whom Ferelden might be saved. She marveled at how fate had made him a Grey Warden and a prince just at the moment both would be most needed. At times like this Kathryn wondered if the Maker had really turned his back on his creation. 

As Alistair walked through his drills, getting used to the weight of the shield. She pulled out her dagger. "May I have the honor?" She said. 

"What?" Alistair said as he turned to her. She swung at him and he instinctively brought the shield up to block. The dagger glanced off the face of the shield as sparks flew. "Hey!" Alistair said as he looked at the faint scratch. 

"The honor of the first blow is mine." She said. "May it be the first of many." 

"True, but if we really wish to initiate it into battle, we should do it properly, don't you think?" He said with a smile. 

"I do." She said returning the smile. 

68.4 Zevran 

A cacophony suddenly arose from inside the warehouse, screeching of metal on metal, wood breaking and the sounds of falling and crashing objects. Zevran looked at Wynne and Sigrun in turn. They had just cleared out the Grey Warden's cashe and were now waiting in the alley for Kathryn and Alistair. 

"Do you think we should check on them?" Sigrun said. 

"Well, they have not called out for assistance, so I would assume they do not require such which means they are either fighting or… making love... perhaps both. But in any such case, I do not think we would want to interfere." Zevran said. 

"Apparently we can't leave them alone for a moment." Wynne said trying to sound more exasperated and disapproving than she really felt. 

"I think we will need to leave them along for longer than that, my dear Wynne." Zevran said. Sigrun quietly laughed. 

"You'd think they would show some discretion." Wynne said. 

"You might think that, the rest of us are under no such delusion." Zevran said. 

"Maybe we should remind them that we are going to investigate a riot and they will no doubt get all the fighting they desire." Wynne said. 

"If you wish to, go ahead but for my part, given all they shall face in the time ahead, and the unlikelihood that both of them shall survive it… I am not so inclined to begrudge them their pleasures." Zevran said. 

Wynne sighed and smiled sadly. "Yes, I…" 

A loud crash was heard inside the warehouse and then all was quiet. They all stepped up cautiously to the door and listened. They could just barely hear the soft sounds of hushed whispers and the sounds of the floor creaking and it sounded like it was getting... faster. 

"We should go to the tavern and wait for them." Wynne said suddenly as she stepped away from the door. 

"Yes, we should." Zevran said but didn't move. 

"Zevran! Sigrun!" Wynne said and started down the alley. They looked at each other and with great reluctance followed her. 

Chapter 69: The Landsmeet Part I 

69.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn tightened the last couple buckles of her armor, running through her mind the events of the last days, including Anora's rescue and the confrontation with Howe. Then they had discovered that Loghain was selling the alienage elves to Tevinter as slaves to fund the war. It just got worse and worse, it seemed. 

Last night they had gone over their plans, evidence, arguments, the list of supporters and potential supporters and now it was time. Eamon wanted to get to the hall early and had already left the estate. She must finish getting ready and then together with Alistair, they would head to the palace. 

She went through everything again, their claims and proof, her replies and counter arguments. Giving a speech in front of a large group was not her favorite thing to do. Thankfully, Eamon was giving the initial speech to the Landsmeet. She would then lay out the charges, arguments and evidence against Loghain. 

She felt nauseous. 'Nerves were just a way of knowing you are about to do something important.' Her father had told her, but this time she didn't need the reminder. This was it. Everything, the future, in truth, the very survival of Ferelden turned on this. 

She was startled out of her thoughts by a sharp, insistent knock on the door. Alistair was there. He wasn't ready and looked like he might be sick. 

"Can I talk to you?" He said. 

"Yes, of course, but…" She said as he stepped into the room. He quickly shut the door and locked it. Then he grabbed her, pushing her back against the door, kissing her hard and fast. 

"What… are you… doing?" She asked in between kisses. 

"Panicking." He said as he began to undo the buckles of her armor. 

"Alistair…we don't… have time… the… oh… the… Landsmeet…" She said. 

"Kathryn," He said as he stopped and took her head in his hands, looking her in the eye. "By the time the sun sets… we could all have our heads on spikes." 

Kathryn considered for a moment. "Good point." She said as she kissed him. 

69.2 Alistair 

The Landsmeet had already started by the time they arrived. When they entered the foyer, Ser Caurthrine was there with more of Loghain's men vowing that she would not allow them to enter. Alistair got ready for a fight but Kathryn was able to talk her into standing down, pleading with her to allow them to stop Loghain before he destroyed the country that he loved so much. 

Kathryn's way with words, her persuasive powers shouldn't continually surprise him, but it did. They were as much a weapon for her as any sword and at times even more effective. In near tears, Ser Caurthrine stood aside and pleaded for mercy for Loghain and then ran from the foyer. 

As they stepped up to the doors, Kathryn grabbed his hand. He thought she had done it to reassure him, but she had gripped his hand hard enough to cut off the blood flow to fingers. 

"Hey, I need those." He said as he pried them out of her grip. 

"Sorry." She said. She was breathing too hard and too fast, and she was very pale. 

"You alright?" He said, taking her clenched fist in both of his hands. 

"No." She said. 

"What's wrong?" He asked. He had never seen her like this. If he didn't know better he would think she was on the verge of panic. 

"I… I don't like speaking in front of people. Well, not just people… I mean, I can speak in front of people, a few people… but not a lot of people." She said. "I know it shouldn't matter, but I… I… don't like it." 

"Well, it isn't like the entire fate of Ferelden doesn't turn on… hmmm… wait…" He said. Kathryn weakly smiled. "I mean… think of it this way, what's the worst that could… um… no… actually, don't do that." He said. Kathryn smiled wider, shaking her head. He smiled back 

"How is it you can always make me smile, even in the very worst of situations?" She asked. 

"It's a talent." He said shrugging. 

"Must be, for somehow you always make me believe everything will be alright." She said. 

He reached up and touched her face, brushing her check with his thumb. "You've got this. You do. You told it all to me a dozen times, and you sounded great. I mean I was convinced." 

Kathryn laughed. "You were already convinced, remember?" 

"Oh, right." He smiled. "But if I hadn't been, I'm sure I would be after hearing you. Look, just do that again. Just pretend that you are just talking to me. Once you get going, you'll be fine." 

"All right. I can do that. I… I just hope you're right." She said but a great deal more composed. "But, if it goes… I mean… if I don't… you know… I…" 

"Yes, I know." He said. 

She took a deep breath. "All right, I'm as ready as I'll ever be." 

Alistair reached for the door. "Oh, one last thing, what should I do in there?" 

Kathryn considered. "If you need to say something you'll know it and know exactly what to say, if you aren't sure, aren't absolutely positive, then just don't say anything and concentrate on looking kingly." 

"I see." He said. "That's just a very nice way of telling me to be quiet, right?" 

"Well... yes." She said. "You've never spoken in front of people before and now with so much, everything in fact, at stake, this really isn't the time to start." 

"Right. Got it." He said and opened the door. 

69.3 Alistair 

They entered the hall as Eamon was finishing his speech. Loghain responded to him and then turned his attention to Kathryn. Alistair listened as she laid out the charges against Loghain, the evidence and the arguments for removing him from power. He marveled as she responded to each statement and concern and how quickly. She had started strong, not showing the nerves that she felt, but she had gotten stronger, seeming to thrive on the back and forth of debate. He wasn't sure how he'd do giving speeches, but he knew for certain that he couldn't do what she was doing right now. 

As the debate raged on, he could feel the anger build in him. He hated that Eamon and Kathryn had to speak for him, that he couldn't help her, fight this battle with her but had to allow her to fight it for him. This was his father's throne, his birthright, but he couldn't do much more than stand like a statue next to her. In truth, they could have brought a picture of him and it would have accomplished the same thing, and probably done a better job at the whole looking kingly part. 

He had never been able or even allowed to speak for himself. But if he had anything to say about it, this would be the very last time he ever had to have anyone speak on his behalf. He was going to read every book on government and oratory, everything he could get his hands on about politics and rhetoric. He had always imagined that all that was too complicated and subtle for him to understand. But after reading the book Kathryn had given him, he realized that while some had more talent for it than others, as Kathryn obviously did, most of it was learnable. Everyone in this hall had learned it and he could too. 

He was also angry at… well, he wasn't sure who. No, that wasn't true, he knew exactly who, though he couldn't bring himself to admit it. But the fact was, he should know all this already. He should be able to stand in this hall and demand the throne of his father, protect this country with words as well as steel. He should have been taught, should have be prepared for this, just in case. It wasn't as though Maric had a dozen legitimate heirs and the chance of him being called upon to fulfill this role was near nothing. There had only been Cailan. 

But it was more than that. By what right had… anyone… had… oh, why couldn't he bring himself to say it? What right had… she… had his mother, decided that he should be raised an orphan, that he should be cut off from his family, that he be denied a brother he could have shared adventures with, a father, a real father who could have taught him to swing a sword or told him the tales of Calenhad instead of having to read them in a book? 

And why was it so hard to admit that? Because he had always blamed Maric, resented Cailan and thought of his mother as the one person in his life who hadn't abandoned him of her own volition. But now to know that she had… done this to him… She had her reasons, he was sure, good reasons or at least she thought so, but whatever they were, from his perspective, standing in this hall with the fate of Ferelden hanging in the balance, they weren't good enough. 

He looked around the hall. He could feel the tenor in the room change, feel the resistance and even the hostility to what Kathryn was saying dissolve, feel as surprise, turned to shock, and then to anger. As more and more evidence piled up, even Loghain's most ardent supporters looked concerned and troubled. 

Then in dramatic fashion Anora walked into the hall and denounced Loghain to the stunned nobility. He had to give Anora this, she knew how to make an entrance. Loghain made an impassioned plea that sounded more desperate than anything. 

Then it was time for the vote. Alistair held his breath as one after another stood with them. In a way he was almost disappointed, he had wanted to contribute in some way. He hoped that at least they allowed him to say that he accepted the appointment as king… something. 

But Kathryn had done it! She had won the argument, won the Landsmeet. It was over. 

He looked at Loghain. He had wanted vengeance for Duncan and the others, but he had… wait… there was something, a look in Loghain's eyes. It was not the look of a man who was going to accept defeat. Alistair realized that this wasn't over but far, far from it. He got ready. 

69.4 Kathryn 

"Traitors!" Loghain screamed. If anyone had any doubt that Loghain had fallen prey to paranoia it was quickly disappearing. "None of you deserve a say in what happens here! How dare you judge me!" Loghain then looked at his troops that lined the walls of the hall, and gave them a signal. They drew their weapons. 

There were cries and screams. Kathryn scanned the room. While they outnumbered Loghain's men, these were Loghain's elite troops and besides Alistair and her, Eamon and the small group of his troops that he had brought, the rest were not armed. They had come for a debate not a battle. They may be able to defeat Loghain but there would be much bloodshed. 

"In the Maker's name, stop!" The Revered Mother cried. 

"Call off you men, Loghain!" Kathryn said. "Let us settle this honorably!" 

Loghain stared at Kathryn and then held up his hand. His troops stood down. He had proven his point that he was willing to take the country by force if need be. They had not planned for this, but they should have. They had been so concerned with the Landsmeet, that hadn't considered what Loghain might do if he lost. But they should have known that Loghain would not step down without a fight, that he would never concede but only accept defeat if at the end of a sword. 

Kathryn had appealed to Loghain's honor as a way to avoid an all out battle but she had no idea of what to do now. She hoped someone came up with something and fast. 

The Revered Mother called out. "Alistair's right to the throne is challenged. In the days before King Calenhad, such claims were settled by duels. Will the Landsmeet agree?" 

Bann Alfanstana looked around the room and then spoke. "If it will avoid bloodshed, but the duel must be fought according to tradition, a test of arms in single combat until one party yields." 

"Agreed." Loghain said. "Let us end this." 

"Do you accept?" The Revered Mother asked. 

Inwardly, Kathryn cringed. This was not really her place to say. While Eamon had called the Landsmeet and she had put forth the evidence and arguments that Loghain should be removed from power, they were now far beyond that. Into the realm of challenges and duels, traditions from before the country had even existed. 

She had told Alistair to hold his tongue unless he was sure he should speak and positive as to what he should say. While he should be the one to accept, there was no way to tell him that without alerting the entire Landsmeet. It seemed she would have to accept on his be… 

"Yes, I accept." Alistair said in a voice strong and sure. Kathryn realized that this was now completely out of her and Eamon's hands. This was now Alistair's fight. 

Loghain looked surprised as though a dog or perhaps the chair had suddenly spoke. He turned to Alistair "Will you face me yourself, or have you a champion?" Loghain said with no small amount of derision. The clear implication was that Alistair had not the skill or the… stones to face Loghain himself. 

"I don't need a champion." Alistair said with equal amounts of contempt and confidence. "This is a duel for the throne of my father and I am more than willing to fight you for it." Alistair said. 

Earlier, it had occurred to Kathryn that Alistair was the only person through which Ferelden could be saved, that his existence had given them a chance to stop the civil war and end the blight, but as it turned out the country wouldn't be saved because of his existence but because of him. If the country were to survive, he would have to be a warrior king and like all the ones who had come before him, he would have to fight to claim and protect his land and his people. It seemed fitting somehow. 

"Then let us test the mettle of our would-be king." Loghain said. "Prepare yourself." 

Kathryn heard Alistair say under his breath. "You have no idea how long I've been ready for this." 

Kathryn turned as Alistair stepped to her. "For a moment there I thought I'd have to fight the duel myself." She whispered. 

"Not without fighting me for it." He whispered back. "There is no way I'd let anyone… not anymore. This is mine. He is mine. This is my fight, and it always should have been." He said too quickly. 

"This is my birthright, and I… I owe it to them… I owe this to… to Duncan… and to Cailan... and all the others too. And I can do it, Kathryn. I can." He was breathing too fast and his eyes shot back and forth. He was nearly twitching with nervous energy. 

"I know." She said and meant it. He could do it, and in truth me might be the only one who could hope to defeat Loghain in a duel, but he couldn't do it like this. "But Alistair, listen to me. You can't think about any of that now. There are more important things than vengeance or even justice." Alistair looked away. "You honor them best by making sure that the cause for which they fought and died is achieved, that Ferelden is saved from the Blight. And you do that by doing whatever you have to do to win this duel." 

Alistair looked back up at her and seemed much calmer. "How is it you always know exactly what to say?" 

"It's a talent." She said with a smile. 

"Must be." He said. "Kathryn, I…" 

"Yes, I know." She said and smiled. "Now… kick his ass." 

"Right." He said as he started to the front of the hall. 

Kathryn looked around. They all looked worried, even Eamon, and she knew why. For when they looked at Alistair, they saw Cailan. How could this child hope to stand against Loghain, the great general, the man who had driven Orlais from Ferelden, the Hero of the River Dane, the one who had stood against the might of the Orlesian Empire? 

But Alistair wasn't Cailan. 

Kathryn walked to the front of the hall, just outside the area cleared for the duel. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't even worried. They were all wagering their future and that of the country on Alistair's strength of will, his skill and talent, fortitude and courage, and she would take that bet any day. 

She watched as they got set. She saw Alistair assess Loghain and a bit of concern crossed Alistair's face. He looked to her. She smiled at him. Long ago, so very long ago it now seemed, she had made Alistair a promise, that if it was at all possible he would never draw his blade without her at his side. She was forbidden to interfere in this fight, but she could still stand here showing her trust and belief in him and allow him to take what strength he could from that. He smiled back and then turned to face Loghain, his expression one of determination and focus. 

This wasn't even going to be close. 

Chapter 70: The Landsmeet Part II 

70.1 Alistair 

Alistair walked up to the front of the hall, opposite Loghain. From the moment the Revered Mother had asked if he accepted Loghain's challenge, he had understood that this was now his fight and his alone. Eamon and Kathryn had gotten it to this point, but he had to finish it, and he was ready. 

He assessed his opponent, that was how he had to think of him, as just an opponent. If he thought of him as the murderer of Duncan and the rest, he would be too eager, too aggressive, too focused on revenge, and he would lose. And if he lost, not only would he die, but Kathryn and Eamon would be executed and the country would fall to the blight. There was no way he could allow that to happen. Everything turned on this, on him and his ability to not think about that fact. 

Loghain was still strong in body and spirit even if his mind was suspect. Alistair knew that he had been raised a farmer, and didn't have formal training in sword and shield, but he also knew that Loghain had had enough practice during the war. You do not live through battles with chevaliers without being extremely good. And he'd had years to improve, more years than Alistair had been alive. He had probably developed strategies of his own and was no doubt well versed in the tactics of the discipline. Loghain also had the best armor and weapons the royal treasury could buy and in his mind he was fighting to protect the land he loved. He would be nearly unbeatable. 

Alistair, of course, had been formally trained with sword and shield, and he was good, very good. For the past two years he had been fighting nearly every type of man and monster there was on a daily basis. But he was trained to fight mages, demons and darkspawn, not compete in duel with the equivalent of a knight. And the last time he had fought alone, completely alone, was… the tournament that was held for Duncan, then he had fought three knights… and lost to all three. 

Alistair felt the doubt like a splinter under his skin he couldn't ignore or a thorn in his hand that was allowing his confidence to bleed out of him. Without realizing he was doing it, he looked at Kathryn. She stood at the front of the hall. She didn't look afraid or even concerned. She looked sure and confident, her trust in him complete, her belief in him unshaken. She smiled at him. She believed that he could do this, believed implicitly and completely, and she should know. She had seen him fight more than anyone else. Despite his own doubt, her belief was enough for him to believe he had a chance. 

He smiled back. Wait… the tournament wasn't the last time he had fought on his own. He remembered that in the tower he had turned from fighting the desire demon to find that he stood alone against four templars… when everything, the fate of Ferelden, the lives of Kathryn and the others, rested on him… and that fight against worse odds than this, he had won. 

He looked back to Loghain. The differences in arms and armor, swords, shields and strength, all came to naught. This fight would be won on the quality of their strategies, the execution of tactics, skills and talents, on discipline and will, and perhaps on who had the most to lose by this fight and who had the most to gain. 

They started to circle each other. Alistair wanted Loghain to draw first. He wanted to see what Loghain reached for first, his sword or his shield. That would give Alistair a clue as to his plans, his attitude, demeanor and what he thought of Alistair. Although, he probably already knew what he thought of him. But if he could get Loghain to make the first move, it would be a victory, a small one, but one nonetheless. He had to be patient, he had to focus, he had to wait. The tension in the room was thick. The room itself quiet. Barely anyone dared breathe. He saw the twitch in Loghain's eye, as Loghain reached for his sword. 

Alistair rushed forward. He equipped his shield, just in time to knock Loghain back. Loghain recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. Alistair advanced and knocked him back again. Alistair then swung the shield at him. Loghain was just able to dodge the blow. Alistair continued to turn, spinning completely around, drawing his sword and bringing it around in one fluid motion. Loghain barely had enough time to bring his sword up to block. 

Sparks flew as the screeching of metal upon metal filled the hall. They both held. Alistair could see the surprise and the sorrow in Loghain's eyes as he recognized Maric's sword. It was there and then it was gone. Loghain suddenly pulled back causing Alistair to overbalance. Loghain quickly equipped his own shield. Alistair recovered and attacked but Loghain was ready and stepped into the blow blocking it. 

Back and forth they went, prodding the other's defenses, probing for weaknesses and finding very little, neither was able to gain on the other. They could fight this battle as one of attrition, trading blows and blocks until someone made a mistake, for as good as they both were, it would only take the one. But the longer they did that the more that the victory would turn on luck, on some completely insignificant thing like a loose buckle or a weak joint, and Alistair wasn't willing to risk everything on luck. Mainly because his always seemed to be so bad. 

Loghain for his part seemed perfectly willing to focus on defense and wait for an opening, trusting in his skill and judgment and in his estimation that the younger man would be more aggressive and too impatient, that Alistair's discipline would break down given the opportunity for vengeance and the importance of this fight. That excitement and nervousness would make Alistair careless or even reckless and give Loghain the victory. All Loghain had to do was wait. But if Loghain thought to fight a defensive battle, then Alistair needed to put him on the offensive, and the way to do that was to give him what he wanted… an opening. 

In the king's game, many times you must sacrifice to gain an advantage, and here even the smallest advantage could make all the difference. Alistair would give Loghain an opening, not a decisive one but a good one, a really good one. One good enough that Loghain couldn't pass it up, one that Loghain would think he could capitalize on and force Alistair into making a decisive mistake, a mistake that would give Loghain the victory. But if Alistair could hold, if he could not make such a mistake, successfully defend and recover even from such a disadvantage, hopefully it would force Loghain into error, into giving Alistair an opening, a decisive opening. One that Alistair could exploit and turn into a victory. 

Maker, he hoped this worked. 

Alistair slightly dropped the position of his sword and shield. As they continued to trade blows, he did just enough to keep Loghain at bay. He dropped the shield even lower and then attacked, leaving himself open to a counter attack, hoping that Loghain would take the bait. 

With a speed that would be surprising for a man half Loghain's age, Loghain deflected Alistair's attack and countered. Alistair felt the pain shoot through him. Loghain pressed his advantage, landing blow after blow and forcing Alistair back. It wasn't about not getting hit, but knowing which hits he could take and which to block. Alistair could taste his own blood. He was in a cold sweat and it hurt to breathe, but he had to make sure Loghain never had a chance at a decisive hit. He had to stay focused, he had to be patient, and he had to be ready. 

Alistair could tell that Loghain was getting frustrated by his inability to turn this overwhelming advantage into a victory. Alistair just needed one small opening he could exploit while he still had the strength to do it. Alistair took another hit but then was able to deflect the next. Loghain was losing his advantage. He could either try to exploit what was left of it or allow the chance to slip out of his hands. Loghain attacked. 

He pushed Alistair back, giving himself time and room. He circled his sword around behind him, then raised it high. The intent was to bring the sword straight down, putting all his weight and strength behind the blow, thereby striking with incredible force. If it landed, it would break bone even through massive armor. If blocked, it could easily break a shield or the arm that held it. It would be a decisive if not fatal blow and it was nearly impossible to defend… nearly. 

But if Alistair could catch the blow after Loghain committed to it, but before it had gained power, it could be blocked and held or deflected. But the moment of that was less than the blink of an eye. If blocked too soon, Loghain could redirect the blow. If blocked too late, he'd catch the full force of it. Not to mention, that if the blow was properly defended he'd gain little by blocking it, for Loghain would be in a good position to deflect any follow up strike. Even it wasn't perfectly defended the risk made it hardly worth attempting. The best defense was, if possible, to get out of the way of such a blow. 

But Alistair saw that Loghain wasn't defending it perfectly. He had dropped his shield slightly and his feet were too close together. So when he struck, he would be off balance and vulnerable to a high blow to the chest. 

It was such a small mistake, hardly worth even calling a mistake. A difference of few inches at most, but Alistair thought it might be enough. Alistair would have to block the blow at the perfect time and then execute a flawless follow up strike. It would be like putting an arrow through a keyhole or better yet through the spokes of a moving wagon wheel, then turning around to shoot a target the size of a gold piece. But if he could do it, and then follow it up… it would be decisive. 

Loghain started to bring the sword down. Alistair sprung forward and caught the blow with the shield. The force of it rushed through him, but he, his arm and Duncan's shield all held. He switched his grip on his sword and hit Loghain in the chest with the pommel. His fingers just grazing the top of Loghain's shield. Loghain was thrown off balance and stumbled back. 

Alistair nearly overbalanced but kept his feet. He charged Loghain. Alistair now had to execute a series of strikes, blocks and counterstrikes. He didn't have time to even catch his breath. If he let up for a moment, if he missed a strike or block, or mis-stepped, misjudged anything by even a inch, it may give Loghain a chance to counter. 

This was it. It all came down to this, all the hours of training, the near constant battles, the intense study and discipline, he would need every bit of it. He struck hard and fast, bash, spin, strike, turn, thrust… blow after blow landed, critical and crucial blows landed, damaging and decisive ones that forced Loghain back again and again. Loghain desperately tried to regain his footing, tried to block or counter, tried to keep up, tried to get space to reset but failed. 

Finally, Loghain fell to a knee. Alistair saw the opportunity to go for the kill. It would be a small risk, the strike would open him to a block and counter-attack if Loghain had the wherewithal and the strength to do it. Part of him screamed at him to take it, to take vengeance for Duncan and Cailan and all the rest and to do it now that he finally had his chance. 

But he pushed the thought aside, exerting the discipline he prided himself on. As Kathryn had said, there were more important things than vengeance, like saving Ferelden. The rest would come and he hoped soon but he was too close to victory to get impatient or greedy. Alistair went for the sure victory, for the surrender. He struck again with his shield. Loghain was driven to his knees. Alistair then knocked Loghain's sword from his hand. Loghain tried to raise his shield but couldn't. 

"I yield." Loghain said. Alistair backed up, after taking a deep breath, and checking to make sure his injuries were nothing more serious than a few… okay, several… cuts and bruises, and maybe a cracked rib or two, he looked to Kathryn. She smiled at him. She had known he could do it. She hadn't been worried at all, the look said… well, he thought, that made one of them. 

Loghain took several ragged breaths and struggled to his feet. "I underestimated you." Loghain said. "I thought you were like Cailan. A child wanting to play the part of hero and king... but there is some of Maric in you after all. Good." Alistair thought he sounded… relived. 

Suddenly, Alistair felt the rage and grief that he had carried with him since Flemeth had told him that all of them, Duncan, the Grey Wardens, Cailan, were dead, overtake him. He had been able to hold them in check. Flemeth had said there would be a time for grief. How did she put it? 'In the dark shadows before you take vengeance.' Well, that would be now, wouldn't it? 

"Forget Maric." Alistair said spitting the words out. "This is for Duncan." 

Alistair could order Loghain executed with an axe in a public spectacle as a common criminal and not as a warrior by a blade. But he had served Ferelden well, and deserved a warrior's death. Besides he wanted to do this himself. As a last kindness, he picked up a two handed sword. He would not have Loghain die by Maric's blade. 

He looked over to Kathryn. She nodded. Alistair swung the sword and watched as the blade cut through the air and then through Loghain's flesh. He felt some of the rage lessen as Loghain's life blood spilled out of him, but there was more than enough grief to take its place. 

It was done. Loghain was dead. 

There remained in Alistair an empty hole that he knew no amount of vengeance or time would fill, but he had found a bit of peace. He just hoped Duncan and Cailan and all the others had too. 

70.2 Kathryn 

"So it is decided." Eamon said. "Alistair will take his father's throne." 

"And I accept." Alistair said. 

Kathryn felt the steel bands that had been wound tightly around her chest loosen. Finally, it was over. She listened as Alistair ordered Anora to be put into the tower and stated that if he fell in battle with the darkspawn, she was to be his heir. It was an shrewd move, to clearly plan for such a contingency thereby avoiding another civil war at a time when the country would be at its most vulnerable. 

"Your Highness, would you address the Landsmeet?" Eamon said. 

Kathryn cursed herself. She should have thought of this and prepared him for it. Of course, it would be expected for him to address the Landsmeet after being appointed king. In fact, this may be the most important speech he would ever give. He had already proven himself a warrior, risked his life to claim the throne, made a difficult decision with confidence and planned for his own succession. It was an impressive start. But these few words could reinforce or undermine all he had done, install confidence in him as king or raise concerns. She unknowingly held her breath. 

"Oh… that would be me. Right, um…" Alistair stepped up and took a deep breath. He looked around the hall. She expected him to be nervous, to be intimidated or even overwhelmed by the sheer number of people present, by the importance of the moment, by being called upon to speak without warning or time to prepare. All the things that would have turned Kathryn's stomach if she were in his position. But… he didn't look nervous or intimidated. In fact, he sort of… looked… kingly. 

"I never knew him, but from all I've heard of my father, what defined him was his commitment to protecting this land." Alistair said. He looked quickly over at Kathryn. 'How was that?' his eyes asked her. 

She smiled and nodded encouragingly. 'Incredible!' Her look said. 

He smiled and then turned back to the hall and continued. Kathryn listened and smiled even wider. His natural charm and easy manner were just as affecting with an audience. He seemed to thrive with the attention, his voice getting stronger as he went. His presence becoming more commanding. Dear Maker, he was a natural! Although, she shouldn't really be surprised. There were reasons his ancestors had ruled Ferelden for hundreds of years and not all of them had to do with battle. It seemed he really was his grandmother's son. 

Kathryn looked over at Eamon who was trying his best to cover up his surprise. He had no doubt expected Alistair to thank the Landsmeet and say he would do his best and then Eamon would cut him off before he said anything embarrassing. He was not expecting this. But mixed with the surprise, Kathryn could see a growing sense of pride. 

Alistair continued. "So, I will continue with my fellow Warden to fight the Blight and I can think of no one better to serve as regent in my absence than Arl Eamon, the man who brought us here to fight Loghain's tyranny." 

Eamon cast a glace to Kathryn who indicated quite clearly that not only had she not told him to do this but had no idea he was planning on it. He recovered quickly and accepted. 

Kathryn looked around the hall and saw the faces that before had been so worried, now smile and nod with approval. Not only was it a good move to put Eamon in charge given Alistair's complete lack of experience but it also showed that he wasn't just wanting power and that he was willing to risk his life to fight the Blight. 

Alistair next turned to her. "My fellow Grey Warden will, I hope, take Loghain's place as the leader of my armies." Alistair looked hopeful and a bit apologetically at Kathryn. "Shall we finish this thing together?" 

Kathryn hadn't thought she could smile any wider and had to fight the urge to laugh. "Yes, let us finish this together, my king." 

It seemed that while Eamon and her had been dealing with making him king, he had been thinking about what to do once he got there. His acts so far had been resolute, selfless, sensible and even wise. She thought about the person she had met at Ostagar and how looking at him as he was then, she should be surprised by his actions now, but in truth, she wasn't. 

Alistair then turned back to the hall. "Everyone, gather your forces, get ready to march! It will take all of Ferelden's strength to survive this Blight. But we will face it! And we will defeat it!" 

A huge roar came from the assembly. "That's my boy." Kathryn whispered. 

70.3 Kathryn 

After Alistair's speech, nearly all of the nobles had come to speak with him, introduce themselves, shake his hand, congratulate him, and so on. Kathryn had one more thing she had to do, before the Landsmeet was closed. 

Finally, Eamon stood at the front of the hall and said. "If there is nothing else, I hereby declare that this gathering of the Landsmeet…" 

"Arl Eamon!" Kathryn called out. "If I may, I have an order of business to bring before our new king." 

Eamon cast a quick glance to Alistair who shrugged and looked at Kathryn curiously. "Of course." Eamon said with a bow. 

"Thank you." She said sounding much more confident and composed than she felt. She turned to the hall which was now silent. "Honored ladies and lords of the Landsmeet." She said with a bow. 

She then turned to face Alistair. He smiled at her. Somehow that made it better. She took a deep breath. 

"Your Highness, I, Kathryn Cousland, the second child of Teyrn Bryce Cousland of Highever, come before you to ask that the unsubstantiated charges of treason levied against my father be expunged, his name cleared and titles reinstated and that the lands of Highever which were wrongfully taken and held, be restored to my family." 

Kathryn saw Alistair's eyes widen with understanding. She continued. "Rendon Howe claimed that my father was planning on betraying this country to the Orleasians, the very empire that he fought to free it from. My father, my mother, my brother's wife and nephew along with many of the castle guards and servants were murdered by his men prior to the battle of Ostagar. When Loghain assumed the regency upon the death of King Cailan, my father was posthumously declared a traitor to Ferelden. The lands of Highever which have been held by my family since before the time of King Calenhad were taken and given to Rendon Howe." 

"I maintain that Loghain wished to get my father out of the way, just as he tried to do to Arl Eamon, for he feared that upon Cailan's death, my father would be declared king by this Landsmeet thus preventing Loghain from seizing power. And that he conspired with Rendon Howe who has long coveted the lands of Highever, that in exchange for bringing charges of treason against my father, Loghain would give him the teyrn." 

"Your Highness, not one piece of evidence has been brought against my father, nothing to indicated that he ever did or had any intention of violating the oath of fealty he swore to your relations. So I humbly ask that this injustice be remedied, that his name be cleared and that the lands be restored to the Cousland family as per the agreement long held by our ancestors." 

"And with this honored Landsmeet to bear witness, I state that I have a man of character who is willing to pledge that my father is dead and I also state that nothing has been heard of my brother Fergus since prior to the battle of Ostagar." Kathryn took a deep breath. "And therefore I present myself to you as the rightful Teyrna of Highever." 

She could see Alistair swallow hard. "Eamon…" He whispered. 

"Does anyone have anything to say either in favor or in opposition to this request?" Eamon said and then began whispering to Alistair. 

"I wish to speak." Bann Alfanstana said. "While I knew Bryce mostly by reputation, it was a reputation unmatched in Ferelden. He was known throughout Thedas as a good man and a good ruler, well loved and well respected by his peers and subjects. Given all we have discovered regarding the dealings of Loghain and Howe, I have no doubt that he was gotten out of the way so that they could execute their plan to take over Ferelden. I truly do not think that there is a person here who believes Bryce would betray this country. And I wish to declare before this Landsmeet the friendship between Waking Sea and Highever." Kathryn bowed to Alfanstana who returned the gesture, amid cheers of approval. 

Kathryn turned back to Alistair who whispered a quick "Got it." to Eamon. 

Alistair took a deep breath. "Well, then… um… I, Alistair… Theirin… um… King of Ferelden, do hereby declare… that Bryce Cousland's name be cleared of all claims against him, that his rights and title be reinstated and that the lands of Highever be restored to the Cousland family… and that the Lady Kathryn is… um… recognized by the crown as the… Teyrna of Highever." 

A cheer came from the nobles. "Thank you, your Highness." Kathryn said with a bow. 

"Finally, the new Teyrna of Highever must swear an oath of fealty to the King of Ferelden just as Teyrna Elethea Cousland did to King Calenhad." Eamon said. 

Alistair looking incredibly uncomfortable whispered to Eamon. "That's really not necessary, is it?" 

"It's all right." Kathryn whispered as she knelt before him. "I, Teyrna Kathryn Cousland of Highever, do pledge my loyalty and fealty to the King of Ferelden and do solemnly swear to serve the King as my lord and fulfill all duties as his subject." 

Kathryn could tell that Alistair was trying his best not to smile and failing. Kathryn made a quick motion with her hand. Alistair looked at her questioning. "You have to accept my oath." She whispered. 

"Oh… right." He whispered. "How do I do that?" 

"Take my hand." She said. Alistair stepped forward taking her hand as she stood. "Now, it's done." She said with a smile and a great deal of relief. 

"I believe that now, I can declare the Landsmeet concluded." Eamon said to the hall, and then whispered to himself. "I don't think any of us could take much more." 

Chapter 71: Denerim Part IV 

71.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn walked down the hall to her room. The Landsmeet was over. Alistair was king. Loghain and Howe were dead. She could hardly believe it. She kept expecting to wake up and find it had all been a dream and it hadn't happened yet or worse it had and they were all now waited to be executed. 

After the Landsmeet, and speaking to every noble in Ferelden, she had talked to the captain of the army. Tomorrow they would get a full report not only on the army but on the state of the country. 

Once she had returned to the Arl's estate, she'd had to recount the entire story of the Landsmeet three or maybe four times. She had asked but no one had seen Alistair. She figured that he was still at the palace doing king stuff with Eamon. In fact, it occurred to her that he may stay in the Royal Apartments, for after sleeping on the ground for months having the opportunity to take advantage of the royal bedding might be too tempting. 

She stepped inside her room. The fire was burning and the room was warm. She closed and locked the door. As soon as she turned the key, she was grabbed from behind and spun around as she heard Alistair laugh. Finally he set her down, turned her to him and kissed her. 

"We did it! We did it!" He said between kisses. "Well, you did it, you and Eamon. I mostly stood there and looked kingly." 

"Well, there was that whole fighting the duel thing. You haven't forgotten about that, have you?" She said. 

"Oh… right… that was pretty important, wasn't it?" He said smiling. 

"Yes and then there was that speech, naming a regent and a general for what did you say 'my armies'." She said with a smile. 

"Yes, I did like the sound of that and you have to admit that for a first speech, it wasn't bad." He said. 

"No, not bad at all." She said. "And you can't have forgotten about me on my knees in front of the entire Landsmeet swearing to serve you." 

"Ah… no, that was definitely a highlight of… well… my life." He said laughing. "But the important thing is… we did it! I'm king! Loghain and Howe are dead. And we actually have a chance to stop the Blight. I can't believe it! I truly thought we'd all have our heads on spikes by now." 

"You doubted me?" She said with mock offense. 

"You, no. Everyone else, yes." He said. "But I'm king. King of Ferelden. 'King Alistair.' 'Alistair Therein, King of Ferelden.' Sounds strange, but… good. It sounds good." 

"Indeed. Let's see…Your Majesty; Your Highness; Your Kinglyness; Your Worshipfulness." She mused. 

"You are just making those up, aren't you? You're as bad as Oghren." He said. 

"So, your Highness… will you show me your royal scepter?" She said with a laugh. 

He swept her up into his arms. "With pleasure, my lady." He said and carried her to the bed. 

71.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn laid her head on Alistair's stomach, running her hands over his chest and sides as he stroked her hair. They watched the fire, pleasantly spent, at least for the moment. 

Kathryn raised up and looked at him. "Are you alright? I mean about… Loghain." 

Alistair considered. "Yes. I'm… yes… yes, I am." He sighed. "Maybe he really did believe that he was doing what was best for Ferelden in… killing Cailan and seizing power but even so… there is no excuse, no justification for leaving all the others to die to cover it up." 

Alistair looked into the fire. "They, all of them, were someone's father or mother, son or daughter, sister or brother and they…they were fighting to protect their home and were just… left to die. They deserved better. They deserved justice. They and all the others who suffered because of his delusions. I just… I hope it's enough." 

Kathryn took his hand and held it. "And Duncan?" She asked. 

"I… I am… now. I… I just wish…" Alistair shook his head. "He didn't have long. The nightmares… I knew that. At least he died fighting the Blight. That's what he wanted. I… I just want him to be at peace, you know?" 

"Yes, I know." She said. She laid her head on his shoulder, as he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her forehead. 

They watched the fire. "You know, you could be staying at the Royal Apartments. Sleeping on a goose down feather bed with silk sheets and blankets of the finest wool." She said. 

"True, but with Loghain's men still lurking about I thought it might be best to stay here." He said. "Besides this is where you are." 

She smiled. 

"And I really would rather not stay there till the room has been redone." He said thoughtful. "Cailan's taste in decoration is… interesting, to say the least. I doubt Anora slept there." 

Kathryn looked at him curiously. "I would think the prospect of sleeping on a royal bed would outweigh most all other considerations, especially cosmetic ones." 

"You would think that, yes but well… let me just say that I hope if I ever decide to have a portrait done of myself in velvet you will hit me over the head with something large and heavy." He said. 

Kathryn eyes widened. "Gladly, for if that be the case I would consider it a mercy killing." She said. "Velvet, truly? No, you're making that up." 

"I wish I were, honestly do you think I'd make that up." He said. "And if you have any mercy in you at all you will never speak of it again." 

Several moments passed as they listened to the fire. Then Kathryn quietly laughed. 

"What's so funny?" Alistair said. 

"Oh, it just occurred to me that it's been quite a day. I started out a traitor and outlaw, twice over with no standing and a bounty on my head and now I'm Warden Commander of Ferelden, Teyrna of Highever, Commander of the Armies of Ferelden, not to mention the King's Mistress." She said amused. "Apart from the Empress and Grand Cleric, I might be the most powerful woman in Thedas!" 

Alistair's expression darkened. Kathryn felt him tense. She looked up at him and then raised up. "I meant it as a joke and apparently it was not a very good one." 

"No, it wasn't." He said. He got out of bed and walked over to the fireplace, staring into the flames. 

"I didn't mean…" She said as she sat up. 

"What did you mean then?" He said. 

"Alistair, now isn't the time to talk about this." She said. 

"Actually, I think now is the perfect time to talk about this… about us and the… and our future." He said. 

"Alright." She said. "Then let's talk." 

Alistair sighed. "I asked Riordan about Grey Wardens having… children." 

"What did he say?" She asked. 

"He said that men lose the ability to father a child within a couple years of taking the joining, less depending on race and age. So, while it might still be possible for me, the chances now are pretty slim." He said. "There is not much information on women Grey Wardens having children, of course, just because there are so few of them. But it seems one of the Orleasian Grey Warden did about twenty years ago and they gathered all the information the wardens had on the subject. Riordan said there were reports of female Grey Warden bearing healthy children for a few years after their joining, but not many." 

Kathryn looked thoughtful. "Were there any reports…" 

"… of two Grey Wardens having a child?" He said. "No. None." 

Kathryn looked down and then said. "So… you having an heir… even with someone… else…" 

"I guess it is possible, but highly unlikely. Even now the chances are low and by the time I found… someone… it would probably be too late." He said. 

"For you to father one, but… not for her to have one." She said. 

Alistair looked at her confused and then sighed with understanding. "I hadn't thought of that." He said with a touch of bitterness. He considered for several moments and then began to shake his head. "No. Even putting aside how much I don't like the very idea, too much could go wrong. Too many people would have to know and could use that fact against Ferelden. It could be a potential disaster. Maybe in another country where the succession is only determined by birth, then the deception might be worth the risk but not here where the Landsmeet can choose whoever they want, whenever they want. No, the succession is just something I'll have to deal with later." 

Kathryn nodded and looked relieved despite herself. 

Alistair took a deep breath. "You know what I want. The same thing I have always wanted. Before maybe I wouldn't have had the courage to do what I wanted. I probably would have been too afraid of losing you and not being able to survive it and with me being king I'd have to. Maybe I'd have used the whole heir thing as an excuse to end things with you just to protect myself, but not now, not anymore." 

Alistair knelt beside the bed. "Kathryn, I want to marry you. I don't want you to be my… mistress. I want you to be my wife and I want to be your husband. I want us to make a life… together, not just be a part of each other's lives." He looked down shaking his head. "But I'm not sure that's what you want." 

"I didn't say that." She said. "I never said that." 

"No, but you haven't said that you do either." He said. "And if you don't want that… with me… then maybe we shouldn't be…" 

"No, Alistair, it isn't that I don't want that with you." Kathryn ran her fingers through her hair. "If I was a mage or elf or dwarf or even a commoner you couldn't marry me, right?" 

"True, politically it would be… impossible." He said. 

"Then would you end it because we couldn't?" She said. 

"No," He said thoughtful. "…but there is a difference in not being able to and wanting to and being able to and you not wanting to." 

"I do want… I want us to be together, to fight our battles side by side, to be there for each other as we have been but that isn't what's going to happen." Kathryn said. 

"It isn't?" He asked confused. 

"No. I've seen how this works and with you being king…" She stood and took a few steps and then turned back to him. "Every man I've known or ever heard of… when it comes to marriage… they want a wife, not a…" 

"…a partner." Alistair said standing. 

"They all want someone to bear their children, run their house, warm their bed and serve them tea." Kathryn said bitterly. "My father was Teryn, so mother who was a warrior in her own right, gave up her life to be a wife and mother. Fergus chose a proper wife for himself. Even the great Calenhad married Mairyn and not the warrior Lady Shayna." She said. "You'll want me to be that person, expect me to be that person, and I'm not! I can't be and I won't be! I won't give up who I am, my duties and my responsibilities, to be queen!" 

"I'm not asking you to give them up." He said. 

"Aren't you?" She asked. 

"No, I'm not. I mean… you will be queen, yes, that is the situation, I can't change that but I don't want you to give up who you are for me or the country or anything." He said. 

"You will." She said sure. "Now that you're king…" 

"I may be king but I'm still me, Kathryn!" He said. "Look at me. I haven't changed, not who I am, not at heart and not to you, and I won't." 

He turned, rubbing his head and then looked back to her. "Things have changed, yes, and now I have duties and responsibilities of my own and if we stay together, there will be times when I follow you and there will be times that… that I'll need you to follow me." Alistair considered. "And if you are not willing to do that… if you only want to be together if you are the one in charge, then I need to know that." 

Kathryn looked away and then back to him. "You know, all my life I wanted to do something important and on my own and now I have. And I feel if I marry you, that I am betraying all that, betraying myself by doing exactly what everyone expected of me, exactly what I was supposed to be doing all along, making a good match and marrying well." 

Several moments went by. Alistair looked down. "Look… there will… never be anyone else, not for me… not ever. No matter what. If I have to do this by myself, I will and I know that I can, though… I'd rather not." Alistair said and then shook his head. 

"I want us to have a life together." He looked up to her. "We can make it work. I know we can if we are both committed to making it work and to each other. I am, and I… I deserve that same commitment from you." 

Alistair took a deep breath. "I… I don't want and I… I will not just have you come and go in and out of my life whenever you feel like it." He said grave. He walked over to the pile of his equipment and quickly got dressed. 

"Alistair, I… please…" Kathryn said. 

"You can't have everything, Kathryn." Alistair said. "You have to choose. Just remember everything has a price… even freedom." 

Alistair walked over to her, took her hand and placed something into it. "Here. No point in me keeping it anymore, is there?" He turned, picked up his pack and weapons and walked out of the room. 

Kathryn heard the door shut behind him. She looked in her hand and there was a ring, a simple band of polished silverite. As she turned it over in her hands, she saw the inscription on the inner surface of the ring. 

'And I love you, always. Alistair' 

71.3 Alistair 

Alistair made his way up the stairs to the upper floor with the guest rooms. His room was the first to the right. He kept some of this things in there and tried to mess up the bed everyday just to keep up appearances but hadn't spent much time in it. He set his stuff down and got undressed and crawled into the bed. He was too tired and too upset to do much other than fall asleep. 

He woke later, much later it seemed. He thought to go back to sleep but there was something a noise, a whisper, something just within his hearing but impossible for him to make out. He got dressed. He reached for his sword and shield but then realized he wouldn't need them. He walked out of the room, through the empty halls and out the front door. 

The warm soft light of the evening sun greeted him. As he stepped out the door his foot touched not the paved stones of the market district but soft dirt. He looked around and saw acres of craggy grass, gnarled trees and moss covered rocks surrounding him. He felt the warm breeze, and breathed in the smell of the heather. He listened and heard the sound, soft, coming from the north. He followed it. 

As the sound got louder, he saw a figure standing in the distance just past a small group of trees. As he got closer he could tell it was a man, black hair, dark complexion, standing with his back to him looking out over a cliff and beyond to the sea. Then he understood what the sound was. It was the sound of water crashing against the rocks. 

As he approached the man heard him and turned. It was Duncan, but not as Alistair had ever seen him. He was ten years younger at least. The bits of grey were gone from his hair and beard, the lines on his face lessened, the scars gone. When he saw Alistair, he smiled. 

He turned back to the water. "My father brought me here many times when I was a child to see the sea and listen to the waves. It is my favorite place in all of Thedas." Duncan said. He looked around. "I wonder if it still looks like this. I wonder if it ever did." He turned to face Alistair. 

"You look different… but good." Duncan said to him. 

"So do you." Alistair said. He looked out to the sea and then back. "You're leaving, aren't you?" 

"Yes, it is time. I should have left before now, but it was… difficult." Duncan shook his head. "I believed that Ferelden would fall to the blight, that I had failed in my duty." 

"No, you didn't fail!" Alistair said. "You were… betrayed, murdered all of you. It wasn't your fault." 

"I know that… now." Duncan said. 

Alistair swallowed hard. "I… I'm sorry." He said looking to the ground. "I'm sorry I… wasn't there… that I couldn't save you… I wanted to… I wish... I…" 

"No, Alistair…" Duncan said as he stepped to him and put his hand on Alistair's shoulder making sure to meet his eyes. "…if you would have been on that battlefield, you would have died as well. And then there would have been no one who could have stopped Loghain. No way to save Ferelden. But now there is hope and with that… peace. It is enough." 

Duncan put his hand on the side of Alistair's neck and smiled. "If I would have had a son, I would have wanted him to be like you." Alistair started to say something but couldn't. Instead he embraced him. Duncan put his arm around Alistair's shoulders holding him tight. 

"It's time." Duncan said. Alistair stepped back, rubbing his eyes. "Take care, Alistair. Perhaps we shall meet again." 

"Good bye, Duncan." Alistair said, his voice unsteady. "Thank you… for everything." 

Duncan smiled and then turned and taking a last breath of the sea air, stepped off the cliff. Alistair watched his body slowly fall and then disappear in mid air. 

Chapter 72: Denerim Part V 

72.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn arrived at the palace, the sun was just reaching the tops of the building. Normally she wouldn't be up this early but she hadn't been able to sleep much the previous night. 

She heard Eamon call out to her. "Ah, my dear, I mean… your ladyship." 

"Eamon, please." She said. 

"No, I need to get used to calling you that, at least on formal occasions." He smiled. "I have ordered the war room set up, given the threat we face, I thought it appropriate and the most useful. I have asked reports to be made on every department and subject. By the end of the day we should know everything from the number of swords the army has in storage to the number of rats in the larder." 

"Four hundred and thirty-two." Kathryn said. "Swords, not rats. I counted." 

"Ah, well, then I'll mark that off the list." Eamon said with a smile. "Maps are being prepared and I've gone over all the accounts that were available. It should all be ready by half past." 

"Good. Have you told Alistair?" She asked. 

"No, I have not seen him this morning, it seems he had left for the palace before I woke. I have the servants looking for him, but I would guess he is in the dining hall eating breakfast." Eamon looked at Kathryn curiously. "I trust all is well." 

"Yes, all is well." She said a bit too quickly. 

"I am going to partake of the palace kitchen while the room is being readied. You may wish to also, for we shall need sustenance in order to make it though today and I hear the chef makes excellent mushroom crepes." Eamon said. 

"Hmmm… if I had known that I would not have eaten at the estate, but I have and I think I shall proceed to the war room." She said. 

"Then I shall excuse myself and see you there." Eamon said and turned away. Then he stopped and turned back to her. "Your ladyship." He bowed slightly and then disappeared down the hall. 

Kathryn started towards the war room but then realized what she needed was a moment of quiet before the storm and time to gather herself before seeing Alistair. She saw a servant putting some fresh cut roses in a vase. The servant saw her and bowed. 

"My lady." She said and then looked concerned. "No, you're… I'm sorry, your ladyship." She said and bowed again. 

"It's fine." Kathryn said. "But tell me where did you get these flowers? They're beautiful." 

"These are from the palace garden, your ladyship. There is a beautiful rose garden, that I believe King Maric had put in for Queen Rowan." She said. 

"Really." Kathryn said. "Where is it?" 

72.2 Morrigan 

Morrigan finished casting her spell. Everything was going according to plan. 'Twas still much to do, and 'twould be tricky to work out the timing exactly right but so far things bode extremely well. 

She smiled a well satisfied smile and turned to see Jowan watching her. She jumped, how he was able to get that close to her undetected, she couldn't fathom. 

"Jowan, I…" 

"What are you up to, Morrigan?" Jowan said. 

"I do not know what you…" She said. 

"Don't bother denying it. I know you are up to something." Jowan said stern. 

"You should be more careful where you throw your accusations." She said as she turned away from him. 

"I'm a blood mage. I can feel it. It's something big and powerful. I don't know what, but you are going to tell me everything about it." Jowan said. 

"Am I?" Morrigan said amused by his threats. "I think not." 

"I'm not going to let you hurt them, not any of them and especially not her." Jowan said. 

"You think I would harm her." Morrigan said. 

"I don't know, but I won't risk it." Jowan said. 

"'Twill not harm anyone, and especially not her." Morrigan said. "'Tis all you need know." 

Jowan considered and then shook his head. "That's not good enough. I don't trust you. Tell me what you're up to. Now!" 

"You think to threaten me!" She said. "You think I am afraid of you." 

"No, you're not." Jowan said. "But you should be." 

"Ha. You are a weak, insignificant lackey of the Circle without the will or power to stand on your own." She said. 

"And you… are not your mother." Jowan said. "And not half as smart or as powerful as you think you are." 

"Be gone from my sight before I show you what… true… power… ah… no…" Morrigan was unable to move. It felt as if her blood were on fire, muscles twitched and jerked beyond her control. She struggled to talk, to even breathe. "Stop… you… destroy… everything… ah… stop… you must… stop!" Morrigan collapsed as Jowan released her. 

"Now, tell me." Jowan said. 

Morrigan took a couple deep breaths, as frost formed around her hands. She quickly rose to her feet, and then unleashed a blast of cold. Jowan jumped back as flames shot out from his hands. The two blasts of ice and fire, clashed in a continuous explosion of steam and sparks. 

Jowan was powerful but Morrigan was more so and he was barely able to hold back the cold. But bit by bit the flames were driven back. Morrigan could tell he was weakening and running out of power. He would exhaust his supply leaving her with just enough to overtake him. The fool, she thought. 

Then the slight bluish tinge to his hands suddenly changed to red. Morrigan realized too late that she had been tricked. He had gotten her to spend nearly all her reserves, by doing just enough to hold her at bay, allowing her to think she was winning the battle, while he had not yet tapped his most potent source of power, his blood. She had lost and there was nothing she could do. 

She put all she had into a last attempt... that... that wasn't enough. She watched the faint blue light around her hands disappeared. "No!" She cried as the blast of fire knocked her back against the wall. She crumpled onto the smoking floor. 

"Now," Jowan said as he stood over her, hands glowing with intense red light. "You are going to tell me everything." 

72.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn stepped out into the garden. The sun was just now clearing the tops of the buildings. The air was crisp but contained the promise of the coming spring. She took a deep breath. She looked around the garden. It was beautiful and peaceful, even situated as it was in the very heart of Denerim. 

The servant had said that the rose garden was to the left of the main garden. She followed the small path around a hedge, and there it was. The area was filled with roses of all colors and varieties. She marveled at how they could bloom out of season but then she felt the warm air and saw the pipes that circulated the hot air from the kitchen fires around the garden. 

One bush of particularly beautiful dark red roses caught her eye. They looked so much like another rose tucked safely away in her pack. She breathed in its fragrance. She took off her gloves and touched the petals. They felt of velvet. Her vision blurred. She bit her lip and blinked several times before it cleared. 

As her mind wandered over memories precious and dear to her, her hand dropped from the flower to its stem. The sharp pain of a thorn pricking her finger brought her out of her thoughts. She snatched her hand back and then watched the tiny trail of blood run down her finger to the simple band of polished silverite she was wearing. She wiped the blood away and then ran her thumb over the ring. 

"So," Kathryn heard Alistair say "I go and find the most private, out of the way spot in the palace, probably in all of Denerim, just to have a moment to myself before seeing… well, before everything, and I turn around and here you are." 

Kathryn looked up to see Alistair standing just behind her. She stood up. There was so much she wanted to say, needed to say but somehow she couldn't think of any of it. Several moments passed before he looked away. 

He sighed. "I take it Eamon…" 

"…is eating while the war room is being set up. It should be ready half-past. There is a lot to go over. He has maps and reports… quite in his element it seems." She said, thankful for for something, anything to break the uncomfortable silence. 

"Yes, well even with him being regent I want to know all that's going on." He said and then considered. "With you being General of the Armies and Warden Commander, I guess you'll just stay for the stuff about the soldiers and the blight. Really no need for you to hear about the treasury and such, is there?" 

"No, as it stands those would be my only concerns, but I may eventually assume other duties and it would benefit me to hear everything." She said. 

"Other duties?" He said almost hopefully. 

"Yes. I… well, you know, I was thinking… there is the position of chancellor, yes? Even though it is currently unoccupied." She said. 

Alistair looked down and sighed. "Yes… yes, there is." 

"Well, given your lack of experience, I would think that it would be quite beneficial for you to appoint someone to that position, someone trained in the arts of governance, even raised a noble who can work with you and be there to assist you in ruling the country." She said. 

"Yes, that's true." Alistair said. 

"And I was thinking that after the Blight is ended and you have no more need for a regent, Eamon would be perfect for that role." She said. 

"Eamon?" Alistair said surprised. 

"You don't think so?" She asked. 

"No, I mean, I do think so. I had thought of that, in fact." He smiled disappointed. "I… just… I thought for a moment you might want that position." 

"Oh, no. Not at all." She said. 

"Right, of course not." He said resigned. 

"I mean, it would be a great honor and Maker knows I truly need another title but practically speaking to have the chancellor and queen be the same person… well, it confers no additional benefit. At best it would be unnecessary and at worse would seem egotistical and arrogant." She said. 

"Queen?" Alistair said too stunned to be hopeful. 

"Yes." Kathryn said. "That is, of course, if you still… want that." 

Alistair laughed with relief. "If I still want… yes… I… but I… I thought…" 

"I know… but I realized that if I married you that I wouldn't be marrying the King of Ferelden or making a good match or becoming someone's wife or even becoming queen… I'd be marrying the man I love, and that I want to be with and build a life with and that all the rest... none of it is as important as that." She said. "I do believe that we can make this work if we both want it badly enough. And there is nothing that I want more than for us to be there for each other as we have been, to stand side by side and face whatever comes… together." 

Kathryn took a deep breath and continued. "And as you know I only follow those of my own choosing, those I respect and admire, people of character and worth, those whose opinions and judgments I value and hold in the very highest esteem, and there is no one who qualifies in that regard more than you." 

Alistair considered. "Kathryn, are you…" 

"…sure? Yes, more than I have ever been about anything." She said smiling and then looked concerned. "But there is one minor problem with me actually marrying you." 

"I knew there was a catch." He said worried. "What is it?" 

"You haven't actually asked me to marry you." She said. 

"I… oh… I… no, I… I guess I didn't, did I?" He said. "How… awkward." 

"And if you think after all this I'm letting you out of a proposal, well…" She said crossing her arms but smiling. 

"Right. I… I just… I'm not really sure what… you know I haven't done this before." He said seemingly nervous. 

"I know, but it isn't hard." She said. "To start with there is kneeling involved." 

"Oh, yes, of course." He said and then went down on one knee and waited as several moments passed. 

"Then 'Will you marry me?'" She said encouragingly. 

Alistair looked surprised. "Well, I wasn't expecting you to just come out and ask me like this. But… sure, I mean, why not?" 

Kathryn tried her best to scowl and glare but failed miserably and could only shake her head and laugh. 

Alistair smiled at her. "Alright. So… um… I… King Alistair… um… Therein, ah… King of Ferelden, do ask you… Lady Kathryn… no, wait… Teyrna Kathryn of… or is it… Kathryn Cousland, Teyrna of… hmm… let me start…" 

Alistair then turned his head slightly to the side. He reached over and took Kathryn's hand, running his thumb over the silverite band on her finger. He looked up to her. "I don't… I mean… you didn't know for certain I'd still want…" 

"It didn't matter." She said. "Because there will never be anyone else… not for me… not ever." 

Alistair smiled at her and took her hand in both of his. "Kathryn, my love…" His voice trailed off as he looked down, closing his eyes. Kathryn grasped his hand and held it tight. 

He took a deep breath and looked back up to her. "Kathryn, my love, will you marry me?" 

"Yes, Alistair." She said. "I will."


	4. Part IV: Chapters 73 through 84

Chapter 73: Denerim Part VI 

73.1 Kathryn 

Alistair kissed Kathryn again and then rested his forehead against hers. "We should get to the war room." He said reluctantly. "Eamon's probably there already and we need to go over… stuff." 

Kathryn had forgotten all about the war room, about Eamon, the civil war, even the blight, for a moment she wasn't even sure where she was. She had forgotten nearly everything but the fact that Alistair and her were now engaged, that one day soon they would be husband and wife. She pushed all of those other things out of her mind, she wanted to stay in this blissful ignorance with him for a little longer. 

"In a moment." She said. "I'm sure he's still eating breakfast, savoring the mushroom crepes. You can't rush through good crepes, you know." She leaned forward and kissed him again and again and again. 

Finally, he stopped breathless. "We need to go. I don't want to miss anything." 

"You can't miss anything, you're the king remember. They can't do anything without you." She said kissing him again and then again. 

"Kathryn." He said pleading. 

"All right." She said. "Warriors! Always in such a hurry: have to get to the battle, get there before anyone else, then run out to meet the enemy!" 

"Nobles!" He said. "Always late, make everyone wait, think everything revolves around them." 

"What? You mean it doesn't." She said. 

He smiled. "There is nothing I'd like more than to take you to bed right now, but it will have to be later. We need to go. Besides I can't wait to tell everyone that we are going to be married." 

Kathryn considered. "We may wish to wait to announce that, at least publically." 

Alistair looked concerned. "Why?" 

"Alistair, it isn't just what you do as king but how and when you present it. The timing of royal announcements is very important." She said. 

"I don't understand." He said. 

"Well, at this point half the country probably hasn't even heard that you've been appointed king yet. So any announcement should wait for that news to spread." She said. "And our… engagement is a wonderful thing for us personally… but also it's a reason for the country to celebrate. There will dark days ahead and there may be a time when the country needs a reason, any reason, to celebrate and hope for better times. It will be seen as a symbol of a new start, a new beginning. And if you have taught me anything it is that in the very darkest of times, hope and joy are essential for survival." She said. 

Alistair considered and then started to nod. "Yes, I see." He shook his head. "Being king is rather complicated, isn't it?" 

Kathryn laughed. "You have no idea, not yet anyway." 

"Then thank the Maker I have you." He said. 

"And you always will." She said. 

73.2 Eamon 

Eamon entered the war room. The palace steward walked up to him. "Your Grace. As you can see everything is as you requested. I also made a few other arrangements that I hope you will find useful. Shall I go over everything?" 

"Let us wait until the king and… teryna arrive." Eamon said. 

"I believe they just have, your grace." The steward said. Eamon turned to see Alistair and Kathryn enter the room together. It seemed that Alistair's warrior's tendency to arrive early and Kathryn's noble's tendency to be late had perfectly balanced so that arrived exactly on time. Something about that, Eamon thought bode well. He noticed that Kathryn looked more at ease now. It appeared that whatever disagreement the two had was now resolved favorably. 

"Morning, Your Highness. Your ladyship." Eamon said. "May I present the palace steward." 

"Your Highness. Your Ladyship." The steward said and bowed deeply. 

"Palace steward. What exactly does a palace steward do?" Alistair asked. 

"Well, Your Highness, I… well… I along with the head housekeeper run the palace, set up war rooms, dining halls for feasts and banquets, prepare the landmeet chamber, castle maintenance, the gardens, the more accessible areas of the palace while the housekeeper handles the more private areas, bedrooms, guestrooms, kitchen and cleaning and such." 

"Ah, I see." Alistair said considering. "So, if I wanted the Royal Apartments redone so that they looked a bit less like… oh… like…" 

"Like someone chewed up an entire Orleasian ball and then spit it back out, Your Highness." The steward said dry. 

"Yes, exactly." Alistair said. 

"It's that bad." Kathryn said. 

"Yes, the velvet portrait of Cailan wasn't even the worse of it." Alistair said. 

"Velvet portrait!" Eamon said. "Dear Maker!" 

"What did you have in mind, your highness." The steward said. 

"Oh, something warm and comfortable, homey, but nothing flashy… with a comfortable chair for reading… I have a lot of reading to do… and oh! One of those four post beds with the canopy." Alistair said as he unknowingly glanced towards Kathryn. 

The steward's eyes discretely followed Alistair's and then returned. "I think I know exactly what you mean, Your Highness. I will see that it is done." He said. 

"Good. Um… your name was?" Alistair said. 

"Stuart, your highness." He said. 

"Good to meet you, Stuart." Alistair said. "Wait, Stuart the steward? You're having me on." 

Stuart smiled. "No, Your Highness I assure you I am not. I have wondered at times if I got the position because of my name or in spite of it. But allow me to congratulate you on being the first noble to make the connection." 

"I'm not a noble." Alistair said. 

"If I may say that is readily apparent." Stuart smiled. "If you like, I can go over the arrangements." 

"Yes, please." Eamon said. 

"Maps are there. Here is all the paperwork, correspondence, and reports, from the former regent and the Que… Lady Anora's desk. I have the scriveners set up in the next room, and messengers at the ready. There are letter writing supplies, parchment, quills and ink and wax." 

"Yes, this is all excellent." Eamon said. 

"I also retrieved this." Stuart reached into his pocket and pulled out a signet ring and handed it to Alistair who looked at it curiously. "It is the royal seal, Your Highness." 

"What?" Eamon said and looked at the ring. "But… I would have thought Cailan would have had it." 

"No, your grace. The lady Anora kept it locked in her desk. She would issue orders and sign the king's name… if he… could not be bothered." 

"I see." Eamon said. 

Alistair studied the ring. "It isn't that old. Shouldn't it be hundreds of years old." 

"This is not the original. That was lost during the occupation. This one was commissioned by King Maric upon his assuming the throne." 

Alistair turned the ring over and over. "This… this is really it. I mean… the crown, the throne, all just stuff… but this is… it." He looked up to Kathryn. 

"Yes, it is, and it's yours now." She said and smiled. "Put it on." 

Alistair considered and then slipped the ring on his finger. "Ha… it even fits." He said. 

"Your Highness, Arl Wulfe is here and wishes to speak to you." Stuart said. 

"Yes, I figured he would be the first in line to speak to us." Eamon said. 

"And the person we most need to speak to." Kathryn said. 

"Is there anything else at the moment?" Stuart said. 

"No, thank you and show Arl Wulfe in." Eamon said. 

"Very well." Stuart said, bowed and left the room. 

Alistair turned and walked a few paces, rubbing his forehead. Kathryn walked up to him. "You alright?" 

"It just hit me. It just… all suddenly seemed so… real." He said. 

Eamon watched as Kathryn took Alistair's hand. Alistair seemed to immediately calm. "You ready for this?" She asked. 

Alistair took a deep breath. "As ready as anyone ever is for something like this, I suppose… which is to say… Yes, I'm ready." 

Stuart opened the door. "Arl Wulfe." The Arl stepped into the room. 

"Your Highness." The Arl said. Eamon could tell that Wulfe was ready for a fight. He had been in Denerim some time arguing and pleading with Loghain and no doubt he now expected more of the same. Eamon was eager to see how Alistair reacted, if he took charge or let Eamon handle the situation. And if he did take charge how he did. He had already won over the steward with his charm and easy grace, he wondered if he could do the same with a noble. 

Alistair stepped quickly to Wulfe extending his hand which Wulfe cautiously took. "Arl Wulfe, I am so sorry to hear about your sons. We have lost so many… so many good men and women to this blight. It is at times nearly too much to bear." 

Wulfe's expression changed. He had be ready for a fight at worst or formal condolences at best. Alistair's sincere expression of shared sorrow, completely took him by surprise. "Thank you, Your Highness." He said. 

"Know that I am determined that those lost will not have died in vain and that their deaths shall lead us to victory. And to that end, we need you to tell us everything." Alistair said. 

Eamon smiled. He cast a look over to Kathryn who was nearly beaming with pride. 

Alistair indicated a seat and Wulfe sat down. He took out some papers, what looked like correspondence and maps, and set them on the desk. He sat back relieved that finally someone was willing to listen. He took a deep breath. "It started soon after Ostagar…" 

73.3 Eamon 

Eamon sat back in his chair. Stuart had just brought in a plate of food and the three of them had devoured it like a pack of hungry jackals. 

They had been going over accountings, hearing reports about the state of the country. It seemed to be not as bad as he had feared but much worse than he had hoped. Trying to unravel all of Loghain's and Howe's plans and schemes was proving a challenge: money and valuables were missing from the treasury; weapons, armor and other equipment not where it was supposed to be; troops on missions no one knew about; and that was only what they had discovered this morning. Eamon figured it would take months before the mess could be sorted out. 

But in all the bad new and there was a lot and more to come, the most encouraging were Alistair and Kathryn themselves. Kathryn was a wonder, every bit her father's daughter. Her cunning, shrewdness, judgment, her abilities as a ruler and leader were impressive to say the least. He could now understand how she had been able to accomplish the miracles she had. And she had been right about another thing… Alistair. He was not Cailan nor even Maric. For while his knowledge about certain things was lacking, his comprehension, insight and astute observations surprised Eamon. He had been a very bright child but that had developed into intelligence and even wisdom. He was interested in every detail, and seemed to soak up everything. His mental resilience itself was impressive, as was his ability to think strategically. His confidence in himself and comfort with the situation seemed to grow by the minute. 

And together they were even more impressive. While their talents were similar they were not the same and complemented each other. What one lacked the other seemed able to provide. At times they seemed to be thinking with one mind and at others approached a subject from completely different angles producing far better results than each could separately. They had truly developed into a team and a formidable one at that. He could only hope and pray that this arrangement would become official one day soon. 

Alistair put down his mug when something caught his eye. He picked up a stack of papers. As he read the first page, his expression changed, from shock to disgust to anguish and then to anger. He flipped through the pages and then tossed the stack back onto the desk, stood and walked over to the fire. 

Kathryn looked after him and then picked up the stack, as she read her expression turned from confusion to concern. She looked up to Eamon and then handed the papers to him. Eamon saw that it was the casualty report from Ostagar. The names of the wounded, the dead and the missing. Kathryn walked to where Alistair was. 

"Did you…" He said without looking up. 

"I did." She said. 

"I… I didn't know it was… that many." He said. "I guess if I had thought about it, had tried to count it up… but I never…" He turned to Kathryn. "But then to see the names… when it just a number… it doesn't… but name after name…" 

"I know." She said. 

"Why aren't our names on that list? How did we survive? I mean… I know how but why? We should have been on that battlefield. Anyone could have lit the beacon, well… maybe not lit it but could have been sent to light it." Alistair said. 

"Maybe Cailan suspected things might go badly or even that Loghain was up to something. They had been fighting a lot before the battle, perhaps that's why he asked for you to be sent to the tower, so that you wouldn't be in the battle in case something happened to him." She said. "I just got lucky that I happened to be the more junior member and they couldn't send you and not me without raising questions." 

"Wait." Alistair said clearly confused. "Cailan asked for… me to be sent to the tower? I thought he just asked for two wardens." 

"No, he asked for you by name." Kathryn said. 

"Are you sure?" Alistair said. 

"Alistair, I was at the meeting." She said. "You know, he gave the key to the royal arms chest to his guard to give to the wardens and the only thing they would have found in it was Maric's sword. They didn't know about the secret compartment. Why do you think he wanted the warden's to have his father's sword… your father's sword?" 

There was a knock on the door. "Come in." Eamon called. A messenger appeared. "Message for General Cousland." He handed Kathryn the note. 

"It's from the captain of the guard." She said. "He says a group of Loghain's soldiers are gathered at a tavern." She said. "They are not causing trouble but he wishes to know what he should do, if anything." 

"Hmm…" Eamon said grave. "They will need to be dealt with before they become a problem." 

"What do you normally do with troops after a war?" Alistair said. "Well, I guess after the fighting is over you send them home, but they are home, aren't they?" 

"They should be arrested. They have committed crimes against the country. They should be tried and executed or at least imprisoned till after the blight has been dealt with and the country more settled." Kathryn said. "They cannot be trusted and we cannot have them causing trouble, rebelling or attempting to get revenge for Loghain." 

Alistair looked thoughtful and then troubled. "I don't know. They did commit crimes but on the word of a man they loved and respected, a war hero, who had fought to free this country. They did what they were told and no doubt they believed Loghain was acting in the country's best interests. I can't fault them for that." He considered. "But now they know of his crimes and will see that the blight is the true enemy. We are waging a war against the darkspawn and we need every available solider to fight." 

"But if they are not loyal to you, they will be more trouble than they are worth. We are better off with a smaller but united army than a larger one you cannot trust. If we absorb them into the army, they can easily sow dissent and that we cannot afford, at least while we are vulnerable." She said. 

"But why give them a reason to resist and fight us? We do not know that they are not loyal to Ferelden." Alistair said. "We… we should give them a chance. We… we allow them to lay down arms, to surrender and if they are willing to swear loyalty then we commission them into the royal army, if not..." 

Kathryn shook her head. "I think it is setting the stage for a potential disaster and that any benefit is not worth the risk." 

"Well, I do." Alistair said. 

Eamon took a drink. This was interesting. Before if they disagreed one would be persuaded to the other's way of thinking or they would work out a compromise but this was different. They were at an impasse. 

He had known sooner or later this would happen. That they would have a disagreement they couldn't resolve. Before if such happened, it would have been resolved in Kathryn's favor since she was the leader but… this was different. This was about the country, the civil war not the blight at least not directly. This was, in truth, Alistair's decision. Now it was left to be seen if he would conceded or if he would stand up to her and invoke his authority and if he did how she would react. 

Kathryn was used to being in charge and making the decisions and if he had the confidence to go against her it was ironically because she had fostered it in him. She had encouraged him to become the man he was turning into, but could she handle the change in him and the necessary change in their relationship? Eamon wasn't sure. 

These were the moments that while they are not recorded in history determined the fates of kings and countries. 

"So what should I tell him?" The messenger said. 

"We can't risk it. They pose a threat, a danger to you and this country at a time when it is most vulnerable. If they do decide to oppose us, we are right back where we started trying to fight a civil war and a blight." She said. 

"We can. There is a risk, yes, of course but the potential benefit outweighs those risks, not only in troops to fight the blight but in… I don't know… good will, in showing that I don't hold a grudge or will try to get revenge. It will allow the country to heal and come together again… unite the country against the real enemy." He said. 

"So what should I tell him?" The messenger said. 

"I do not think it is worth the risk." Kathryn said. "They should be arrested and at least held until after blight." 

"I do think it is worth the risk." Alistair said. "They should be given a chance to surrender, to show where their loyalties lie, and if willing allowed to take up arms against the darkspawn." 

Several tense moments passed. 

Kathryn crossed her arms and looked thoughtful and then concerned. "Are you ordering me to do that?" She said. "Even against my better judgment?" Eamon unconsciously held his breath. He realized that this may be the hardest decision Alistair may ever make and in some ways the most important. 

Alistair took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but his eyes never left Kathryn's. He stood tall, and unconsciously pulled his shoulders back. "Yes. I am." He said. Kathryn's eyes widened. "You know I trust your judgment more than anyone's, and maybe I'm wrong, which seems likely but I have to do what I… I think is best, what… I believe is the right thing to do. And… I… truly believe this is the right thing to do. So, yes. I am... ordering you to do… that." 

Several moments passed before Kathryn said flatly. "I thought so." She turned to the messenger but without her eyes leaving Alistair. "Tell the captain, that as long as they are not causing trouble to do nothing and to not provoke them in any way. And have a scrivener come in here." 

"Yes, ser." The messenger sped off, in moments a scrivener came in. 

"Draw up an official notice." Kathryn said to him still keeping her eyes on Alistair. "By the king's order, to all those formally under command of Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir, know that they are hereby required to immediately surrender their arms to a representative of the Royal Army and swear an oath of loyalty to the king and to Ferelden. Then they will be given the choice to be honorably discharged or accept a new commission in the royal army." 

"All those who do not surrender their arms or are found to be taking actions against the king or country, will be arrested, tried for treason and hanged." She said. "Signed. Kathryn Cousland, General of Armies of Ferelden." 

She turned back to Alistair. "Will that suffice, Your Highness?" She said smiling. 

"Yes, that will… yes." Alistair said smiling. 

She turned back to the scrivener. "This is top priority, need notices to all taverns, inns, brothels, markets in Denerim and everywhere else and a copy to all commanding offers of all outposts. I want the ones for Denerim to go out today." 

"Yes, your ladyship." He said and hurried off, mumbling to himself. 

She turned back and smiled. Alistair looked at her curiously. "You are not upset with me?" 

"No, we have a difference of opinion, not the first time and won't be the last and maybe you're right. I rather hope you are to be honest, but if they cause trouble…" 

"… we come down on them hard." Alistair said. "They get a chance, but just the one." 

Eamon smiled. 

Chapter 74: Denerim Part VII 

74.1 Kathryn 

It had been a long day. It was late and she was tired and hungry. Her fingers were stained with ink from signing her name on so many official documents and letters. She had written to all the Warden Commanders informing them that the civil war was over, the wardens were no longer outlaws and any and all help would be appreciated. She had sent a copy of everything Wulf had told and given them to Riordan for him to go over, for then to discuss tomorrow. 

A group of Highever's troops, those that had survived Ostagar, had been in hiding, they had heard of her survival and appointment and had eagerly reported to her. They had asked for her permission to retake Highever castle and she had given it to them. They had left immediately with some bowmen from Waking Sea. She hoped to find some of the valuables that were missing from the royal treasury since she had it on good authority that Howe had been moving such to Highever. She had also instructed them to give the troops holding the castle one chance to surrender which had provoked a wide smile from Alistair. 

She had also noticed how at the beginning of the day Alistair had to remind himself each time someone called him 'your highness' that they were talking to him but now he responded to it unconsciously. She could still not get used to being 'your ladyship' mostly because each time someone said that she was reminded that Fergus was still missing. 

Stuart walked in. "Ah…" Eamon said. "I think that is enough for all of us for today. We shall begin again tomorrow." 

"Very good, your grace. I shall have someone stock the supplies. Shall I have the cook prepare dinner and the housekeeper prepare guest rooms?" He said. 

"Yes, please. I'm starving." Alistair said. 

"I will not require a guest room." Eamon said. "I will sleep better in my own bed but I will take supper." 

"Very well." Stuart then paused. "There is a large group of soldiers at the front gate, Loghain's soldiers." 

The three of them looked at each other. 

"What do they want?" Eamon said. 

"They say they wish to surrender their arms." Stuart said. "Ser Cauthrien is with them." 

"By the Maker." Alistair said. 

"Should I send them to the Fort?" Stuart said. 

Alistair looked at Kathryn, eyes slightly wide and then she saw the flash of an idea. She smiled and nodded. "Do it." She said. 

Alistair looked up. "No, don't send them to the Fort. Give me a few minutes and then show them into the Landsmeet chamber. I want a few guardsmen and lots of witnesses. 

"And someone who can give oaths to the soldiers." Kathryn said. 

"Very well." Stuart said. 

"What are you doing?" Eamon said. 

"Hopefully not making an ass out of myself." Alistair said. "Let's get down there." 

74.2 Kathryn 

Alistair stood in front of the throne. "So can you actually sit on this or is it just for show?" 

Kathryn looked at the throne. "I don't know." 

"It looks pretty sturdy, but I don't want to sit in it and then fall on my royal ass." He said. 

"Although that would be pretty funny." Kathryn said. 

"You would laugh." Alistair said. 

"Only after I checked that you were alright, and then yes… a lot." She said. 

Eamon entered the room, with a captain of the army and a dozen guardsmen who set up around the chamber. Along the walls were curious nobles and servants. 

"Your Highness. General, may I ask what's going on?" The captain said. 

"Hopefully we are to get a bunch of recruits…" Kathryn said. 

"…or about ready to get slaughtered." Alistair said as he nodded to the guardsman to open the great doors. 

"Oh." The captain said. 

The large doors in the back of the chamber opened and Ser Caurthrein entered with an entire company of Loghain's soldiers. As she approached the front of the chamber, Kathryn could see that she was carrying one of the official notices. 

Ser Cauthrein stopped in front of the steps to the throne. "Your Highness, is it true that you are offering amnesty and honorable discharge or a commission in the royal army for all Loghain's troops if they swear an oath of loyalty to the crown and Ferelden?" 

"Yes, that is true." Alistair said in his best 'king' voice. 

Ser Caurthrien took a deep breath. "Company! Draw arms!" The entire company drew their weapons as one and held them up. "Company! Lay down arms!" Again as one the company laid their weapons down on the floor. "Then on behalf of all present, I accept the offer and request a commission." 

"Captain." Kathryn said. "Will you do the honor of issuing the oaths?" 

"Gladly." He said. Kathryn listened as the company repeated the oath, and as their words echoed in the hall. 

Alistair smiled and looked over the troops. "I cannot begin to tell all of you how... happy I am that you have realized that we are not enemies and we never were. I know that all of you were following the word of a man who we all owe a great deal to... a hero who I believe truly thought he was doing what was best for Ferelden. But he was wrong. And now we must join together, stand united to face our true enemy and all of us will be needed if we are to defeat this evil that threatens our home." 

"And know this, I will suffer no threat to this land from without… or within and to the enemies of Ferelden, no matter their form, I will show no mercy. But to those who wish to fight by my side against those who threaten this land, I welcome with open arms." 

A cheer went up from the room. Kathryn smiled widely. She thought that truly she couldn't be more proud of him than she was at this moment. 

74.3 Alistair 

The three of them had just finished a delicious pheasant dinner. Eamon had gone back to his estate. Kathryn had left to check on the new troops. They had decided to send them to help Arl Wulfe. They were to be equipped and then set out for West Hills at dawn. 

Alistair was making his way to the guest rooms that had been readied for them. As he passed the royal apartments, he stopped and then stepped inside. The rooms were not made up, no wood in the fire, no candles or lamps were lit. There was just enough light from the hall and moonlight to see. In truth, the room looked much better the less you could see of it. He wandered over to the velvet portrait of Cailan. He reached up and touched the velvet. "Brother." He whispered. 

"There is a much better portrait of him in the gallery, Your Highness." A woman's voice said behind him. Alistair turned to see an older woman standing in the doorway. "Along with King Maric and Lady Moria. That one is… well…" 

"…hideous." Alistair said. 

She smiled. "King Cailan was a good man but his taste was not one of his better qualities." 

"How did you know I was… me?" Alistair said. 

"You have the Theirin nose, Your Highness." She said. 

"Ah." He said. 

"They all have it, comes straight from Calenhad, so they say. Even Moria but hers was less so, or perhaps the painter made it appear that way." She said. "I am Muriel, head housekeeper." 

"Good to meet you." He said. 

"I understand you wish the rooms here redone." She said. 

"Can you blame me?"Alistair said. 

She smiled. "Do you wish me to consult with you on the new decorations or use my discretion?" 

"Discretion. I won't be here and don't know anything about it anyway." He said. "I never had a place that was… mine before. A bed maybe and even then… it could use a woman's touch or someone's." He looked around. "I can't imagine Anora slept here or ever... saw it." 

She smiled. "You are an astute man, Your Highness." 

"And you are the first person to ever tell me that." He said. 

"I doubt I shall be the last." She said. "Que... Lady Anora had her own room at the end of hall, apparently King Cailan… snored." 

"I bet he did." Alistair said as he looked around. "I just want something comfortable and friendly. This is supposed to be my… home, right? I mean the palace is, yes but there are lots of people everywhere. This is my… mine and I want it nice for me and my… you know…" 

"…company, Your Highness." She said. 

"Yes, company." He said. 

"I see." She said. 

"Probably the only time Cailan had anyone in here was with the lights out." He said and then considered. "Hmm… I probably shouldn't have said that." 

"Perhaps not, Your Highness but if I may, you are not wrong." She said smiling. "He only entertained… shall we say private guests here." 

"I thought so, of course if I was married to Anora I'd probably be doing every whore from here to Antiva." Alistair cringed and looked down. "And I really shouldn't have said that. I know better than to have that second glass of brandy. I didn't mean to offend you." 

"Your Highness, I have had two husbands and raised four sons to adulthood, very little offends me." She said. 

"Still, I apologize. She was your mistress and you cannot be happy with… her situation." He said. 

"She was a good mistress, but she allowed her father to do terrible things. He may have been under some delusion but she was not. When the Landsmeet appointed you king, she refused to swear loyalty. She has made her bed and now must lie in it. I carry no sympathy for traitors." She said. 

Alistair looked around and wandered to the edge of the balcony and looked over the gardens. "Did you know Maric?" 

"Yes, though, not well, of course, but I have been housekeeper here for over twenty years." She said. 

"What was he like?" He asked. 

She considered. "He was a good man, who wanted to do the right thing always, but he was not a happy one. And while a good king, it did not suit him, but it was more than that. There was always a great sadness about him. So much tragedy and death during the war and he never really recovered. He seemed a lonely soul as though there were a part or even parts of himself missing." 

Several moments passed. "Shall I show you to one of the prepared guest rooms, Your Highness?" She said. 

"Yes." He said and with a last look stepped out of the royal apartments. They walked down the hall to a guest room. 

She opened the door. They both stepped inside. The room was warm and comfortable. She indicated a folded robe on the bed. "I had one of King Cailan's unused robes brought up for you, your highness." 

"Oh, thank you." He said looking at the robe. "It's very nice. Why was it unused?" 

"He had so many and this one was less suitable than others for a couple reasons, Your Highness." She said. "It was apparently too…" 

"…classy." Alistair said. "I mean the color is beautiful, the fabric is luxurious and warm, no uncomfortable frills, and look… the whole garment is double stitched. The pattern is even lined up on the inside, wonderfully made." 

She looked at Alistair curiously but with approval. "You are a man of discerning taste, it seems, Your Highness." 

"I'm a sucker for good tailoring." He said. "Unfortunately, I don't think it will fit. We found some of Cailan's armor and well, we seem to have a similar build, but I'm a bit… larger." 

"Occupational hazard of being a templar as well as a Grey Warden, I'm sure." She said. "I think you will find this one satisfactory. Cailan liked to wear massive armor and while every tailor in the city had his measurements, they at times… shall we say over-estimated the fit." 

"I see. You seem to have thought of everything." He said. 

"That is my job, Your Highness." She smiled. "Is there anything else you require?" 

"No, I don't think so." He said. 

"If I may, it would seem to me that you may prefer not to spend the evening alone." She said. 

Alistair sighed. "I guess it really is that obvious. I should stop trying to hide it. I think it just makes it worse." 

"I can make arrangements, discrete arrangements, so that no one will know." She said. 

"Yes, that would be appreciated, thank you." He said. "Oh, where is the… um… well…" 

"End of the hall." She said. "About the company, do you have a preference?" 

"Umm… no, just whatever works, and gets her here the fastest without anyone knowing." He said. 

"Very good." She said. "If there is anything else, just ring the bell." 

Alistair put on the robe, which not only fit but was comfortable, soft and warm, and then made his way to the privy. After taking care of his personal needs, and then starting back the wrong way, he doubled back and found his way to his room. 

As he opened the door and there on the bed, he could make out the outline of a female under the down comforter. That was quick, he thought. He smiled, took off the robe and gently pulled the covers back. "Hello, my dear." He said. 

"Your Highness." Said the blond and naked elf that was lying in the bed. 

Alistair jumped back. "What!? Who!? What are you doing here?!" 

"The housekeeper sent me. She said you requested company for tonight." She said. 

"I… no! I didn't… I… I didn't mean…" He said. "Oh Maker!" 

"Is there a problem, Your Highness?" She said. 

"A problem? Yes! There is a problem!" He said. "I… will you put some clothes on!" 

"Oh, you wish to watch me take them off first." She said. 

"No! I don't want you to take them off! I want you to have clothing on!" He said. 

"Oh, a clothing fetish, huh?" She said. "Well, not the worst kind. Much better than the feet, that I never understood." 

"A what?" He said. Then realized that the fact that he was still holding the edge of the comforter was only thing protecting his modesty. He turned and quickly put his robe on and then violently rang the bell. 

Several moments passed as the elf got dressed and he stared into the fire. Finally after what to Alistair seemed a week at least, there was a knock on the door. "Come in." He said. 

Muriel opened the door. She looked over the room. "Is there a problem, Your Highness?" 

"That's what I said, but he won't tell me." The elf said. 

"There was a… misunderstanding. I don't want her." Alistair said. 

"You do not like elves, Your Highness?" Muriel said. 

"No… I mean…" He said flustered. 

"Shems!" The elf said to herself. 

"No, it isn't that I don't like elves." He said. 

"So you do like elves." The elf said. 

"No, I mean… I don't want any woman." Alistair said. 

"Oh, you prefer male company, Your Highness." Muriel said. 

"That figures. All the really good looking ones do." The elf said. 

"I thought you had said for a 'her', but it is easily corrected." Muriel said. 

"No! I don't want… I don't prefer anyone." Alistair said. 

"You know I have herbs for that." The elf said. "Very effective." 

"What?!" Alistair said confused and then he understood. "No! No, that's not it at all." 

"Was it an injury?" The elf asked. "Wait, you mean there was more! Maker!" 

"No, there is no injury! I don't have a… problem with… that!" Alistair said. He rubbed his forehead. "Look, I am with someone... and I don't want her to think something might be going on." 

"I made all the arrangements, Your Highness." Muriel said. "Such were done for King Cailan on many occasions, no one will know." 

"I am very discrete, Your Highness." The elf said. 

"I don't want you to be discrete." Alistair said. 

"Oh you like noise, do you? Screaming or moaning?" The elf said. "I can do either." 

"No, that's not what I meant!" He said. "I don't want to keep it from her!" 

"Well, if she's okay with it all the better." The elf said. 

"No, she isn't… wouldn't be." He said. 

"Many are, you know, rather not be bothered." The elf said. "Is she frigid?" 

"What does her being cold have to do with anything?" He said confused. "Look, don't you understand? I only want to do things with her." 

"She can join us if you want." The elf said. "I don't mind." 

"No! I don't want her to join us." He said. 

"Oh, you want her watch." The elf said. 

"No! I… Oh Maker!" Alistair said. He turned to Muriel who looked confused. "Look, there was a mistake. I don't want this, nothing like it… at all… ever." 

"I am sorry for the mistake, Your Highness. But did you not ask for company?" Muriel said. 

"I did, I guess but that wasn't what I meant." Alistair said and then sighed. "I… I have someone, that I love and am completely committed to but we… well, we are not married yet. And I thought that you knew that and knew who this person was and meant to make it so that she could join me without anyone finding out." 

Muriel sighed. "Oh. Yes, I see. I am truly sorry, your highness. I did not know there was someone and I wrongfully assumed… I deeply apologize, and I promise that nothing like it will ever happen again." 

"Thank you." He said relieved. 

"Come." Muriel said to the elf. 

"But I thought he liked elves." The elf said as Muriel opened the door and ushered her out of the room. 

74.4 Alistair 

Alistair rubbed his forehead. He just hoped that Kathryn never heard about this. Things were the best they had ever been between them. He could imagine what she would think if she found out. Well, he could imagine but he really didn't want to. 

He tentatively walked over to the bed and then looked under it and then checked inside the closet. Finally after casting a suspicious eye around the room, he quickly left. He wasn't sure where he was going but he didn't want to stay there. 

As he stepped into the hall, Kathryn walked by on her way to the other guest room. "Oh there you are… wait, are you leaving?" She asked. 

"No… yes… I mean… I don't want to stay in that room." He said. "It is a… bad… bad room." 

"It is?" She said and looked at him curiously. "Are you alright? Is something wrong?" 

"Yes… no… I mean… I am fine and nothing's wrong… nothing at all." He said and then let out a sigh. As much as he didn't want her to know or have any cause to suspect that he was doing exactly what she said he would, he didn't want to lie or keep things from her. 

"Look, there was a misunderstanding with the housekeeper and she sent up a woman who was in the bed and naked when I returned. I immediately sent for the housekeeper and cleared up everything. Nothing at all happened. That's the truth of it, Kathryn. I swear it is." 

"Really." She said crossing her arms. "So, exactly what kind of misunderstanding results in a naked woman being in your bed?" 

Alistair took a deep breath. "We were talking about having… company and I… I thought she knew I was talking about you and she said she could make arrangements, so that no one would know… but she thought I meant I wanted someone else and..." He sighed. "I know that sounds… lame but I promise it's the truth." 

Kathryn smiled. "I know." She said. 

"You know?" He said. 

"I cut back through the kitchen and heard all about it." She said. "Quite the uproar, no one has ever heard of a young, unmarried noble and especially royalty, refusing a tumble." 

"I am so sorry. I didn't want you to know… I mean even think I would even… think about... that." He said. 

"I didn't." She said. "I may not have known what happened but I know you, and you wouldn't do that." 

Alistair sighed relieved. "I swear I never touched her. I didn't even look." 

"Wait, you expect me to believe you didn't even look." She said. 

"I didn't… I didn't look, or even really see anything." He said. 

"Riiiiight." She said. 

"Maybe a little." He said. "I mean she was right there, it was rather hard not to. I… was too shocked to move." 

"And I'm sure that you weren't the least bit tempted to take advantage of this opportunity." She said. 

"I wasn't, honest." He said. 

"Most, if not all men, would be." She said. 

"Well, not all men have been with you either… that didn't come out right, did it?" He said. 

She smiled. "So where are you going?" 

"Someplace else." He said. "I keep expecting someone to be under the bed or in the closet or something. Very creepy." 

"Well," She said. "There is another guest room down the hall that is also prepared for the night." 

"Yes, I… I know but…" He stopped. "Look, I don't want you to do anything you… I mean… it is one thing to be at the Arl's estate and another to be here. I know how important reputations are and… with you being Teyrna… well…" He took another deep breath. "I will do whatever you think best. Make whatever arrangements… or not do anything if you want... but I would prefer to be with you as much as possible." 

"Well, I don't care about any of it or what anyone thinks and I don't want to spend any time away from you I don't have to." She said. "So, Your Highness, shall we retire for the evening?" 

"Yes, but I do wish you wouldn't call me that when we are alone. I understand in public but not like this." He said. 

"Alright, Alistair." She said. 

"Although, come to think of it there is something I would like for you to call me, when we are alone and only when we are alone." He said stepping up to her. 

"What would that be?" She said. "Wait, it doesn't contain the words: 'daddy', 'master', or anything that means 'big', does it?" 

"Ah… no." He said. 

"Good, then what is it?" She said. 

"'My husband' or even 'my dear husband' if so inclined." He said. "I think it would be bad form to say that in public, at least not until after we are married." 

She smiled. "I love it, but I will only if you call me 'my dear wife' and the 'dear' is not optional." 

"You have no idea how much I love the sound of that." He said smiling. "So, my dear wife, let us retire, since there is nothing I would like better than to bed you right now." 

"In that case I have to wonder why we are still talking in the hallway." She said as she took his hand and started towards the other guest room. 

As they walked, Kathryn started to quietly laugh. 

"What is so funny?" He said. 

"I can just imagine the look on your face when you saw her in the bed." She said. 

"Especially since I had taken the robe off. If I hadn't been holding the covers in front of me…" He said. 

"Wait, you were naked!" She said. 

"Well, yes, I thought it was you but I had pulled the covers back and still had them so she didn't see anything. Thank the Maker." He said. 

Kathryn smiled. "I'm not so sure about that." She said as she smiled wider. 

"Why would you say that?" He asked. 

"It's just that while they were talking, they also mentioned how apparently very 'kingly' you were." She said. "I didn't understand what they meant, but if you were... well, it makes sense now." 

"Wait. You don't think… I mean… even if she did… they wouldn't… really… be talking about… that. Would they?" He said and then seeing Kathryn's expression, sighed mortified. "Oh, Maker!" 

Chapter 75: Denerim Part VIII 

75.1 Kathryn 

"I've never heard of an unmarried noble, especially royalty, refusing a tumble." The baker said as she kneaded the bread. 

"That's 'cause you read all those Nevaran romances about Orleasian royalty and we all know how they are." The cook said as she stirred the soup. 

"Well, from what I hear he wasn't raised a noble." The scullery maid said as she peeled potatoes. 

"I thought he was raised in a castle." The baker said. 

"Yes, but not as a noble, as one of the servants." The scullery maid said. 

"That would explain a lot." The cook said as she tasted the soup. 

"Too bad too. I'd take a tumble with him anytime… handsome, young, strong…" The baker said. 

"Ha! You'd take a tumble with anyone at anytime. At the least opportunity, you've got your skirt over your head." The maid said as she brought the potatoes to the cook who smiled disapprovingly. 

"That's not true!" The baker cried. "You make me sound like an Antivan whore with the rent due. I have standards. They must be handsome and not be missing any… parts." 

"That qualifies as a standard?" The maid asked laughing. 

"Well, yes. There are lots of men about with missing fingers, or one eye or noses cut off in sword fights or teeth knocked out or other… injuries." The baker said and then lowered her voice to barely a whisper. "But from what I heard the elf said not only is he not missing any parts but he's rather… impressive." 

"Watch your mouth!" The cook said. "That's our king. You show some respect." 

"I'm just saying what she said." The baker said. "Nothing wrong in that." 

"How would she know?" The maid said. "From what I heard she got tossed out on her pointed ear." 

"Well, before she left she told one of the chamber maids that she was in the bed and that he pulled the covers back and said 'Hello, my dear.' and he didn't have a stitch on!" The baker said. "Then he called the housekeeper and tossed her out." 

"She could be making that up." The maid said. 

"Why? And besides King Cailan didn't have anything to be ashamed of. Why would his brother be any different?" The baker said. 

"How would you know?" The maid said. 

"I… hear things." The baker said. 

"If King Cailan was all that, then why aren't there any of his young ones running about the palace?" The maid said. 

"Well, to have children you must have a mommy and a daddy and then they…" The cook said with a smile. 

"Funny. I mean it." The maid said. 

"King Cailan and the Queen didn't share a room and from what I heard, he didn't visit hers often." The cook said. 

"That's not surprising. I mean, can you imagine Queen Anora, all hot and bothered, moaning in pleasure, screaming in…" The baker said. 

"That's enough." The cook said. "I think the bread needs a rest." 

"What?" The baker said and then looked at the dough she had twisted into a knot. "Oh, yes." 

"What I have to put up with…" The cook mumbled. "…need the patience of Andraste herself." 

The scullery maid started cutting the carrots. "But… he was expecting someone to be in that bed or else he'd have called the guard or at least had clothes on, but just not her. Maybe he doesn't like elves?" 

"Not what she said, she said he said he did but he might have been just saying that." The baker said. "Maybe he prefers men and that's why he was surprised by her being there!" 

"You can't tell me that he wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a man and a woman under a sheet!" The cook said. 

"I don't know. How many naked men or women have you found in your bed?" The baker said. 

"Well, unlike some, I don't like to brag." The cook said. The maid and the baker smiled at each other. 

"He said 'my dear' I bet he was expecting a specific someone. Someone he wanted the housekeeper to get to his room without being noticed." The maid said thoughtful. "I bet it's her ladyship!" 

"No, I checked. The chamber maid said both guest rooms were used and his robe and things were in his room and hers were in hers." The baker said as she started on a new batch of dough. "Besides why would he need the housekeeper to get her into his room if she was just down the hall?" 

"Maybe they are trying to be discrete." The maid said. 

"Discrete?" The baker said. 

"Yes, maybe you've heard of this. It's where you don't tell everyone the details of your private life." The cook said. 

The baker looked thoughtful. "No, I can't say I have." She said with a smile. "I still don't think it's her. Men in power don't like powerful women. They want someone to fawn over them, tell them how wonderful and clever and strong and handsome, they are." 

"Maybe she does fawn over him… just in private." The maid said with a knowing smile. 

"I doubt it. With her being a general and a warden commander and a ladyship, next to the grand cleric and the empress, she's about the most powerful women in Thedas." The baker said. 

"Even more if she's got the king by the… nose." The cook said to herself. 

"And not likely to fawn over anyone. Besides I always heard that powerful women, nobles and those in the army, the ones that are in charge are just that way in bed too. That they're always giving orders and such. No fun at all if you're the man." The baker said. "And she's one twice over, or I guess one three times over, or it is three once over…" The baker said. "Anyway I can't see a king liking that much." 

"Maybe he'd like that because he's king, like someone telling him what to do for once." The maid said. 

"No, men like to be in charge in bed, even if nowhere else." The baker said. "It makes them feel all manly even if they don't have enough…" 

"Cookies?" The cook said. 

"What?" The baker said. "No, not cookies, not enough…" 

"Have you checked the cookies?" The cook said. 

"Oh!" She said as she hurried over and quickly removed the two batches of cookies. She put in the prepared loaves of bread and then returned to her kneading. 

"You know when I went by Arl Eamon's estate, I saw a couple of good looking women staying there, a beautiful black haired human and a cute red-haired one. For my money I'd bet on the red-head. You know what they say about them… fiery… passionate…" The baker considered. 

"Are you still on that? Do you ever get your mind out of the gutter?" The cook said. 

"I would if there were anyplace better for it to be." The baker said. "Then again, there is a nice looking male elf staying there too. I'd have him… even if I was a man… but if I was a man I'd like women, wouldn't I… or would I? Would that make me… wait… now I'm confused… If I was a man would I still like men? Because I do like men or would I like women because I like men now?" 

"Maker preserve us." The cook said. 

"I still think it is her ladyship. She is smart, courageous and beautiful. I can't imagine the two of them working so closely together all this time without something happening between them." The maid said. 

"Well, two silvers says you're wrong." The baker said. 

"You're on." The maid said. 

"But payment is only on proof or rumor, either but something good and scandalous." The baker said. 

"Someone's coming." The cook said. "Hush both of you before you get us all in stocks." 

Kathryn appeared in the doorway. All three stopped working. "Your Ladyship." The cook said. 

"Sorry, please continue. I'm just cutting through." Kathryn said as she hurried through the kitchen. "That smells wonderful." She called over her shoulder. "When is lunch?" 

"Lunch is an hour past mid-day." The cook said. 

"Good. I'll be back by then." Kathryn stepped into the hall and disappeared. After a moment she reappeared. "You don't have any cookies do you?" 

"Yes, your ladyship." The baker said, grabbing the trays from the table. "Shortbread and jam." 

"Oh." Kathryn said and quickly ran over grabbing several. "Thank you." And then disappeared again. 

75.2 Kathryn 

"Come in." Riordan called out. Kathryn stepped in closing the door behind her. "Ah, yes, Kathryn, I mean, your ladyship." 

"Please, just Kathryn." She said. "I wanted to discuss the situation with you, go over the reports, and figure out a plan." 

"Yes, I expected a summons to the palace." Riordan said. 

"I was not sure you were up to making the trip." She said. 

"That is thoughtful of you. I am doing much better, nearly recovered." He said, then indicated the chair. "Please sit down." Kathryn did as he took the other chair. He indicated the stack of papers. "I have been going over the reports, maps and such." 

"Have you figured out anything?" she asked. 

"Much. I have been able to retrace the horde's movements, determined its speed and strength and then discerned the horde's general location. I have put all this information together here." Riordan handed her a few sheets with a map on top. "This should be useful to you." 

"Yes." She said as she looked over the map. "Now that we have the army at our disposal, we are getting patrols together, setting up refugee camps, fortifications for the more populated areas and lookouts so we'll warnings of any attacks." 

"All good and necessary things." Riordan said approvingly. 

"So, what is our next move?" She asked. 

"I plan to use the information and track the horde, to find its current position and to get close enough to listen in, as it were, to the archdemon and see if I can't discern where the horde may attack next." He said. "Then we can formulate a plan, until then we are chasing a shadow in the dark." He said. 

"Well, all of our allies are ready to march when called and I have sent word to all the Warden-Commanders telling them that the civil war is over, asking for whatever help they can offer, and welcoming all who wish to fight." She said. 

"I fear that many will think Ferelden lost and only seek to protect themselves." He said. 

"I know but some will come. This is the very thing that all wardens prepare for. I can't imagine all of them to be willing to watch from safety. And I'm sure they would rather fight it in our land then theirs." She said. "Besides you do not think our cause so hopeless, do you?" 

"No, not now." He said with a smile. "There is another issue for us to discuss. We will need more wardens. I do know how to prepare the joining and have the necessary ingredients although I must admit that I have never done so. However…" He handed her a small bottle filled with reddish-black liquid. "I found this on Duncan. I assume one of the recruits…" 

"Never made it to the joining." She looked at the bottle. "Would it still work after all this time?" 

"Yes, time matters little, in fact, the main ingredient is hundreds of years old. The blood of the archdemon. That is the key." Riordan said. 

"It is?" She said. "Duncan sent us to collect darkspawn blood." 

"Ah, yes." Riordan said with a smile. "That is the first test of a new recruit, to see how they handle fighting darkspawn. Some cannot and it would be wasteful to put them through the joining. Nearly all wardens go through it, unless they are conscripted and then many times there is not an opportunity. It also keeps the real key to the joining a secret from the new recruits." 

"The wardens have many secrets, it seems." She said. 

"Yes, at times I think too many." He said. 

Kathryn looked again at the bottle. "Do you know how the joining was discovered?" 

"Yes, that I do know. Those fighting the first blight had long sought a cure or treatment for the taint, but had had no success. Soon after the first wardens were formed, in an early battle with Dumat, one of the wardens, a mage, was exposed to the tainted blood of the dragon. He immediately cast spells of healing and protection, and drinking lyrium to fuel them, in what he must have thought was a vain attempt to avoid being tainted. Miraculously, while clearly affected by the taint, the effects and progression were slowed considerably. He worked on the formula eventually coming up with a 'cure.' So, as a warden would become infected, they were given this 'cure' and while all did not survive it, many did. As it went, one was only considered a 'true' Grey Warden if they had taken the 'cure.' In time, the treatment was given as a preventative measure." He said. "I am aware that at least one of your companions wishes to become a warden." 

"Yes, I know." She said thoughtful. "I will speak to him about it." 

Riordan looked at her curiously. "More wardens will be needed. I had hoped to interceded at the Landsmeet." He said. 

"Intercede? At the Landsmeet? What do you mean?" She asked. 

"On Loghain's behalf." He said. 

"On… you mean… make Loghain… a warden? Are you serious?" She said. 

"Yes, of course. Recruiting those condemned to die is a common practice of the wardens. It offers redemption, is more beneficial than allowing them to die which helps no one, and they have nothing to lose by accepting. He would be a worthy candidate and well worth the attempt." He said. 

"Even after he left the other wardens to die, including Duncan?" She said incredulous. 

"When facing a blight, one cannot be too picky where one get allies. The warden's take murders and worse. We must take all those we can who can help us to achieve our goal, even those who have opposed us." He said. 

"That is a lesson I already know. I count among my companions one who tried to kill me, who was in fact hired to kill me by Loghain, and one hired by him to kill Arl Eamon. But the key is as you say, to take those who can help us defeat the Blight. Loghain did not even believe it was a blight despite the evidence to the contrary. Even with the darkspawn ravaging the lands he was more concerned with seizing power." She said. 

"But as a warden, Loghain would know that this is truly a blight and would be compelled to fight the darkspawn, as we all are. His love for Ferelden would have made him eager to defend his land, once he understood the peril." He said. "We cannot refuse help so quickly just because we do not approve of the source and expect to succeed. As acting Warden Commander of Ferelden, if you are not pre..." 

"I am not the 'acting' Warden Commander of Ferelden." She said. "I AM the Warden Commander of Ferelden." Kathryn said and then considered. "I would not be worried about Loghain fighting the darkspawn but fighting us. He has already killed his king, left an army and the Grey Wardens to die to cover it up, weakening the country immeasurably at its time of greatest need in order to seize control because he was convinced that he knew what was best and was the only one who could save Ferelden. What would make you think that he would at all hesitate to stab all of us in the back? For with Alistair dead, Anora would be queen, and he would be the only Grey Warden left in Ferelden. That would be my concern." 

"Hmmm… I see." Riordan said thoughtful. "Perhaps I have been away from the Orleasian court too long and have forgotten the scheming of the nobility." 

"Even if I could have been convinced of Loghain's sincerity, it would not have benefited us. I know without question that Alistair could not have accepted him as a warden. The wardens were the only family Alistair had ever known, and Duncan was like a father to him." She shook her head. "If I would have recruited Loghain, he would have… left." 

"But even Duncan would say that we must do whatever is necessary to defeat the darkspawn. If Alistair is willing to walk away from his duty… does that not say something?" He asked. 

"Yes, that we all have limits. Things we are simply not capable of, things we cannot do or allow, even when faced with our deaths or the destruction of all." She said. "I am not saying he would be right to do that, which is at best a philosophical point, only that that is what he would do. He could no more accept Loghain as a warden, than I could marry Howe." 

"And that is the reality of the situation, that I would be forced to choose between them and while difficult choices must be made, they should be made to gain the most benefit. So, if you are implying that I should allow Alistair to leave because he is the one forcing the choice, well, that seems a decision based on nothing more than spite. Especially since all he asks for is justice." She said. 

"If I look at it pragmatically, I see one who is an excellent warrior and has years of experience as a general fighting Orlesians and not darkspawn, whose skill in sensing them would be less than my own, who would also be a threat to try to take over or eliminate anyone not doing as he thinks best. As opposed to another over twenty years his junior trained as a templar since the age of ten, whose skill in sensing them and knowledge of fighting them exceeds my own and who has extensive experience fighting them, not to mention the fact that he also happens to be King of Ferelden, and then of course there is the fact that he beat the former in a duel, proving himself the better fighter… should I go on?" She asked. 

"Ah…no. I see your point." He said. 

"I cannot simply act and then allow the consequences to happen. I must think through actions, plan outcomes. We are too few in number to be reckless with decisions that may affect if we win or lose, live or die." She said. "Loghain has skill and talent, true, but those are not the only factors that are relevant. This is a war, and all factors, including personality and especially those of character are perhaps the most important of all. And as to judgment, I must follow my own instincts, my own opinion about what is best and will give us the best chance of survival, even if others do not agree. Especially if those others have not been engaged in the fight as I have." 

"Alistair would never forgive such a betrayal, and it would not sit well with my other companions nor the allies we have gather but regardless, I am simply incapable of such disloyalty, especially to one who has fought and sacrificed to bring us this far, who I and other of my companions owe our lives to, many times over, and whose support and judgment I rely upon." She said. 

"As you said yourself, one of the most important things is loyalty to those who fight with you, and that is not only towards a commander but from them as well. For you can speak all you want of saving the world but believe me when I say when you are fighting them, when you hear them laugh, feel their breath, see them attack, at that moment you are not thinking of saving the world but of surviving, of making sure that you and those that stand with you live through it. And when you must put your life in their hands, you must trust them completely, as they must trust you completely. Nothing else will be able to stand against them." She said. 

Riordan sighed and smiled. "Well said." 

"But, in truth, all this is moot." She said. "And at present, we have more pressing concerns." 

75.3 Alistair 

Alistair opened the door to the kitchen. The three kitchen workers stopped and turned to him. "Your Highness." The older woman said. 

Alistair looked around. "Oh. Hello. I didn't mean to interrupt… I was just looking around a bit. Oh, I'm… Alistair… but you already knew that, didn't you?" 

"Yes, Your Highness." The cook said with a slight smile. 

"Right, um… did Kathryn… I mean… um…" 

"… her ladyship?" The cook suggested. 

"Yes, her. Did she come through here?" He said. 

"Yes, Your Highness." She said. 

"I thought so." Alistair said. "Well, good day." He stepped out the door. In a moment, he reappeared. "You don't have any cookies, do you?" 

"Yes, Your Highness." The baker grabbed the trays. "Shortbread and jam." 

Alistair looked over. "Shortbread, huh?" He smiled and grabbed two shoving them in his mouth. He mumbled something and started to leave and then turned back and grabbed a couple more in each hand, mumbled something else and then hurried out of the kitchen. 

"Now," The baker said softly. "You tell me you wouldn't have your skirt over your head for that!" 

"Have if off completely and anything else he wanted." The maid said. 

"Hush, you two!" The cook said. "He'll hear you." 

"Maker, I hope he does." The maid said with a smile. 

75.4 Kathryn 

Kathryn sat on the couch next to the fire in her room. She needed to get back to the palace but was learning to savor these moments of quiet. There was a knock on the door. 

"Come in." She said. 

The door opened and Roland stepped inside the room. "Can I talk to you?" 

"Of course." She said. 

"Riordan said that you could do the joining, make at least one of us a warden." He said. 

She sighed. "Yes, that's true." 

"Kathryn, I want to do that, take the joining and become a warden." He said. 

"I know." She said. "The answer is no." 

"What?" He said. "But, Kathryn I was recruited. As a warden, I can help you in ways I can't now." 

"No, Roland." She said. 

He looked at her and shook his head. "You don't think that I'll survive it, do you?" 

"That's not it." She said as she stood up. She took out the small bottle of reddish-black liquid. "This is it. The Joining. This will make you a Grey Warden or kill you. But the key is that it was prepared nearly two years ago. I am not willing to risk your life that it will work as intended. Riordan says that he knows how to prepare the Joining but he has never done it. I cannot risk that it will be prepared correctly. You have killed more darkspawn than the entirety of the Ferelden army. I can't afford to lose you, not now when we are so close." 

"But Kathryn…" 

"I watched a man die because he took the Joining. A man who faced his death with courage and whose skill and bravery would be most helpful now." She said. "More wardens are on the way. Until then we have three, if that is not enough… the answer is still no." 

"What?!" Roland said. 

"Roland, even if you survive the joining itself, it is still a death sentence. It doesn't make you immune to the taint… it gives it to you. Only the effects take years to develop, but they will develop. You may have twenty years or you may have as little as five years. Five years!" She said as she walked to the fire, and then turned back to him. "Do you truly wish to leave your Helena a widow twice over, to never see your children grow up? Oh wait, you won't have to worry about that since you will not have any! For it takes your ability to have a child. After a couple of months the chance is slim, after a couple years it is non-existent." 

Roland looked down. "I… I didn't…" He looked back up to her. "So you and Alistair…" 

"Will never have a family? Yes. And we don't have to worry about dying of old age, for we will end our days traveling into the deep roads to hopefully be killed fighting darkspawn before we go insane. Our only comfort is that, hopefully, we will go together, but even that is not certain." She shook her head. "I will not condemn you or anyone to that unless it is absolutely necessary. This is only if one of you becomes infected. You all have been very lucky in that regard but you may not be." 

"Kathryn, I'm sorry. I… It should have been me." Roland said. 

"But it wasn't." She said. "You gave your life so that I could escape and in doing so you now have a chance at a future and I will not take that away from you unless we have no alternative and the survival of Ferelden is at stake. That time may come but until it does the answer is no." 

Roland sighed and slowly turned and walked out of the room. 

Kathryn turned to the fire. She ran her fingers through her hair. "Whoever is out there, you might as well come in." 

She turned to see Jowan look inside the room. "I was just… um…" 

"Shamelessly eavesdropping?" She suggested. 

"No, no, not at all." He said. "There is shame, some, not a lot, mind you but some." He walked up to the fire. "Kathryn, I… I know how… um… no… do you know why…" He stopped. "Look, I don't have a future, in fact without you I'd be dead and… this has been the only good thing I have ever done. And… you may… need another warden before the others come and… I know what you told Roland but if it will help… at all… you or Alistair, in any way… just know I'd want to do that… even knowing I would… the risks and everything. Just remember that." 

Kathryn looked thoughtful and then smiled. "Thank you, Jowan. It is appreciated. But I hope that it will not be necessary." 

"Yes, me too." Jowan said thoughtful. 

75.5 Alistair 

Alistair had walked all about the palace and after only one wrong turn, made his way back into the war room. Kathryn was sitting at the table looking at a map. 

"There you are." He said as she looked up and smiled. "What's that?" 

"Oh, it's a map Riordan gave me. He has marked where he thinks the horde is, based on all the reports we have, and where he thinks it might be heading." She said. 

"That's good, we can better plan out the patrols and camps and such." He said. 

"Yes. He is going to try to track the horde and see if he can't listen to the archdemon and figure out its plan and then he will let us know what he discovers." She said as she sat back in the chair and sighed. 

He looked at her. "Is something wrong?" 

"No… I… no… just… all this." She said. 

"Well, after today, we should be through the worst of it, but that's not it, is it? What's wrong?" He said. 

"I… it's nothing… just… thinking, really." She said but looked concerned. 

"No, it's something. You're just not telling me." He said. He walked up and stood next to her leaning up against the table. "Tell me." 

"I… I was just talking to Riordan and… I don't know if I…" She looked down. "As wardens, we have to do whatever is necessary to defeat the darkspawn… to stop the Blight… and… I don't know if I can." 

"What? Why would you… what did he say?" Alistair said. 

"Nothing." She said. "We were just talking about… the wardens and what may happen and I don't know if I can do what may need to be done." 

"Like what?" He said. 

"He can make more wardens, and Roland wants to join. He always has and he asked and I said no. I mean, I can't risk that he wouldn't survive or that the joining would not prepared correctly. I can't lose him. He is too good of a fighter and has experience fighting darkspawn but really that's not it." She rubbed her forehead. 

"Even if I knew for certain he would survive, I can't do this to him. He has a family, a future, a betrothed, a foster son that needs a father and then to take all… the ability to grow old with her, to see his legion of red-headed children grow up. How can I take that from him? Especially after giving his life to save me. And I won't unless there is truly no alternative." She shook her head and then looked to Alistair. "So, does that make me a bad warden or just an incompetent warden commander?" 

"It makes you a good person..." He said. "…and a damn fine leader. A loyal and caring one that others will want to follow, that they will believe in and want to fight for and alongside." 

"But being loyal and caring… that isn't how wars are won." She said. 

"I don't know. Isn't it?" He said. "We fight the darkspawn. They don't fear. They don't want. They can't be intimidated or bargained with. They attack without mercy or thought to themselves. All they wish is to destroy. Their very blood is a poison, and they have nothing to lose. So, how do we defeat them? We defeat them because we care, because we have strength and desire and heart, because we have so much more to lose. That's how we win. Because we fight for something. We fight for our home and for each other and that starts by caring about and being loyal to those we fight alongside." 

She smiled and leaned towards him. "Do you have any idea how badly I want you right now?" 

He considered. "No, not really." 

She stood up. "Then why don't I show you." She said as she got close enough to kiss him but instead she pushed him back onto the table. 

"What are you…" He started to ask. 

"Don't worry." She said as she started undoing buckles. "It's a very sturdy table." 

"Now? Here?!" He said laughing. "We can't!" 

She stopped. "Why not?" 

"Um… I… I don't know." He said. 

She opened her shirt. "Do you really want to talk me out of this?" 

"Well… um… now that you mention it… no, not really." He said as he helped her remove her shirt. Kathryn undid the laces on his breeches then crawled unto the table and on top of him. He ran his hand down her side as she kissed his mouth, neck and down his chest. She placed her legs of either side of his, as he grabbed her hips. 

The chamber maid was hurrying by the door to the war room, when she heard the sound of a chair being knocked over, then stacks of paper toppling onto the floor. She stopped and cautiously approached the door. There were the moans and creaks of the old war table plus the occasional hushed whisper of what might have been "Dear Maker!" 

She wondered if she should ask if the person or perhaps persons inside needed any assistance but then thought the better of it and after discreetly checking that the key was in the keyhole, hurried to her duties. 

Chapter 76: Redcliffe 

76.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn stepped out of her room. She made it to one of the benches in the hall and sat down, burying her face in her hands. It was too much. It was all just too much for her to even comprehend. 

They had been in Denerim for several weeks getting a handle on the country, setting up refugee camps, patrols to protect travelers, collecting information about the spread of the hoard and attacks. She had even heard back from a couple of the Warden-Commanders who promised aid. More Grey Wardens were on the way but it would take weeks for them to arrive. 

Then Riordan's message came. It said that the horde was massing near Redcliffe. He believed that it was getting ready to attack the village. Eamon stayed in Denerim to act as regent. She had alerted their allies and they had rushed here. 

When they arrived the village was overrun by darkspawn. They fought a hard battle to get to the castle but were able to break the siege. Riordan told them that the darkspawn had massed here and attacked but this was not the bulk of the horde. The rest were heading to Denerim, lead by the archdemon, and they would be there in two days. They all knew that this would be the best chance they had to stop the Blight and save Ferelden. They had sent word to Eamon to prepare and try to evacuate and that they would be there as soon as possible. The dwarves had arrived and so had the mages. She had sent word for the rest to march to Denerim. They would leave the next day. 

Riordan had asked to speak to her and Alistair, alone. He had told them why Grey Wardens are needed to stop the Blight. That in order to kill the archdemon, one of them must be sacrificed. Riordan offered to make that sacrifice, but Kathryn knew that wasn't what would happen. This had been her and Alistair's fight from the beginning. If the archdemon died, it would be one of their hands that held the blade. Of that she was sure. 

It all just seemed so unfair, cruel even. After all they had lost and fought and suffered, even more would be asked of them. Why would the Maker give them each other, give them such feelings and then force one of them to die, tear them apart to save everyone else? It just wasn't fair! It wasn't right! She knew there was no justice in the world. That no one ever gets what they deserve, her parents proved that but this… this was too much. 

Alistair had quickly left Riordan's room and she had followed. She had entered her room, expecting to see him by the fire but instead it was Morrigan. She knew about the sacrifice and she had a way to prevent it. But there was a cost. 

Kathryn felt the tears of anger and frustration and of a growing despair. How was she going to convince Alistair to lie with Morrigan, to give her a child, a child he would never see, a child she could never give him, a child that would absorb the soul of the archdemon? 

Would he even believe it? She did believe Morrigan. Kathryn considered her a friend, in some ways more, like a sister, like someone you care about but don't know why. Kathryn felt that Morrigan wasn't a bad person. She had a heart, might even be a good one, and Kathryn truly believed that she wanted to help her and that she wanted this child, and not only because it would have power. 

How could she ask him this? It went against everything he was, every tenant and belief he held, principles he would rather die than betray. Not to mention his true dislike of Morrigan. It wasn't like he could just lie there, he would have to perform and she honestly didn't know if he could. Most men their hearts and other parts of them were not necessarily connected. They could easily do this without feeling or emotion. The pleasure and the added bonus of saving their own lives would be more than enough incentive, but Alistair was not like that. 

She should go back and tell Morrigan no, but it wasn't her choice. He deserved to know that there was a way… and as painful and difficult as it was going to be to even ask him, she hoped beyond all she could express that he would find a way to go through with it. 

She remembered her mother staying with her father, and how that kind of love and devotion had frightened her. She remembered wondering if such love was worth its cost, worth the pain of its loss. She had been so angry at her mother for staying, for abandoning her to stay with father, sacrificing herself to remain at his side, and now she understood, truly understood. 

She could go on, she could, if she had too, but she didn't want to go on, to live in a world without him. He had made her see that the world was worth fighting for, dying for and more importantly living for, that it was worth preserving if for no other reason than the feelings that they shared were possible. But if he couldn't… 

She heard a noise and looked up to see Jowan standing there. "I guess I can skip asking if you're alright." 

"You knew, didn't you?" She said. "In Denerim, you knew." 

"Yes. I figured out that Morrigan was up to something and made her tell me. I wanted to tell you but I didn't think you'd believe me." He said sitting down next to her. 

"Even knowing that, you still offered to take the joining." She said. 

"Yes, and I still will. I still want to." He said. 

"You would sacrifice yourself or do you just want an excuse to sleep with Morrigan?" She said with a weak smile. 

"Funny, no not that doesn't sound delightful but it's too late. She needs one tainted for some time, long enough for them to be able to pass the taint to the child but not too long or else they can't have one." He said. "But the offer still stands. I know Alistair… will not be thrilled about the prospect… he may not be… willing or even able to go through with it. I want to… to do this for you… and for him. This has been the only good thing I have ever done, and there is nothing else for me… I mean without you I'd already be dead. So, to do that… instead of one of you… Kathryn, let me do this. Let me in some way, pay you back for all you have done for me. Please." Jowan said. 

She smiled. "No, Jowan. I am deeply touched that you would offer, I am. But I cannot risk that you would not survive. And I need you. When we go into that battle, you will be there, your powers will be needed. Even if I knew you would survive, your power comes from blood. The very blood that will be tainted. There is no way to know if that will affect your abilities or the willingness of the spirit to help you. Too much can go wrong and besides all that, I will not have you do that just to be sacrificed." 

"Are you sure?" He said. 

"Yes, I'm sure." She said. "I must do what I think is right and what I can live with and I will not betray a friend like that." 

Jowan's lip quivered. "I understand." He said as he took her hand. She held it tightly. "It doesn't seem fair, does it?" 

"No." She said. "Not at all." 

76.2 Alistair 

Alistair had walked out of Riordan's room in a daze. He had wanted to talk to Kathryn, but Morrigan was standing outside Kathryn's room and gave him an icy stare. He had no desire to deal with her today, not today of all days, and hurried to his room. He would wait a bit and then go see Kathryn. 

He wanted to spend every moment they could together… they didn't have much… no, he couldn't think that way… there had to be a way… maybe the Grey Wardens were wrong about the archdemon… there hadn't been a blight in hundreds of years… maybe there was some way… there had to be something… there was Riordan… he hated hoping for someone to die but… Riordan was older and he said himself the taint would not spare him much longer… maybe he would be able to… but as much as he wanted to believe that… as much as tried to convince himself that Riordan would be the one to take that blow, he knew that wouldn't happen. This had been their fight, his and Kathryn's, the final victory would be theirs too. The fates can be cruel at times but they had a sense of justice. 

He had always known, it might come to something like this. He had thought of this before he had asked her to lie with him. That it was possible that they would not both see this through, and even if they did, they may not be able to be together. 

But with all that settled, with them engaged and a life together in front of them, now this, now to know all of that was only a dream… Before he would have gladly given his life to end the Blight but of course it would only be asked of him now, now when he had so much more to lose, when he had a future, a kingdom, a betrothed… why give this all to him, just to take it all away? 

He didn't want to lose her. He didn't want to be alone. He had thought about ending it just so that he wouldn't have to endure losing her like this, but had not, determined that he would go on if it came to that, and he would. But not if he had anything to say about it. He couldn't lose her… and he wouldn't. He would make damn sure that she didn't take that final blow. 

He didn't want to die. He wanted to live… with her, for them to spend the rest of their lives together… but if it was not to be… then this was better. But until then he would hold out hope that there was a way… that something would present itself, that some miracle would happen… 

He started to the door, hopefully Morrigan was done talking. He wanted to see Kathryn, needed to talk and hold her. 

He heard a knock on the door. "Come in." He said. 

Kathryn opened the door and then closed it. She looked upset. He didn't blame her. He could try to lighten the mood but he never felt less like joking than right now. "I was just coming to see you, I… I mean you do have the nicer room. Why is that exactly? I mean I am the king, right? I should have the nicer room now, not that it matters… really." 

"Alistair, we need to talk." She said grave. 

"All right. About what exactly?" He said. 

She looked away and took a deep breath. Whatever it was it was big. "I love you, you know that right?" 

"Yes, I do know that." He said. "But could you maybe make it sound a little more ominous." He smiled weakly despite this growing concern. "Just tell me already. It can't be that bad, can it?" 

She laughed a short, bitter laugh. "Funny you should say that." She said more to herself. She rubbed her forehead and then looked back up to him. "What if I told you that there was a way for us to avoid dying?" 

"You mean with the archdemon… of course, you mean with the archdemon." He said. "Well, if you mean running away, I can't do that… but you don't mean that, do you? What is this about?" 

Kathryn swallowed hard. "Morrigan has a… ritual… a magic ritual. It will prevent the warden that kills the archdemon from dying." 

Alistair's eyes widened. He had been hoping against reason for this very thing but for it to magically appear, seemed a little too good to be true. "But the Blight still ends?" 

"Yes." She said. 

"She's sure this will work." He said suspicious. 

"Yes, she's very sure." She said. "But for it work, she… she needs you to take part." 

"All right." He said. He was more than a bit wary but willing to hear it out. "What do I need to do?" 

"You need to sleep with her." She said. 

Alistair laughed. "You had me going there for a moment, but really that's not very funny. I know I've told my share of bad jokes but… but you're not joking, are you? You're serious. You're… actually serious about this." He said incredulous. "What kind of ritual is this? How would sleeping with Morrigan prevent a warden from dying?" 

Kathryn cringed. "The ritual will produce a child…" 

"What?!" He said. "I… I must be hearing things, but are you suggesting that I impregnate Morrigan in some kind of magical sex rite?" 

"Well," Kathryn said looking like she was in pain. "…yes." 

"Why? Why would I even… How can that help?" He said. His mind racing with too many thoughts for him to keep straight. 

Kathryn began to explain. "The child will bear the taint and the dragon's soul will seek it out instead of…" 

"You mean the child is sacrificed!" Alistair said. 

"NO! No, no, no, I don't mean that at all." Kathryn said her voice shaking. "The child at this stage can absorb the dragon's soul. It won't hurt the child. Its soul will become part of it." 

"How does she even know….Why… why would she want…" He started. 

"She wants to make some kind of Old God, have its soul reborn in the child. That's why Flemeth sent her with us to begin with." She said. 

Alistair turned and stared into the wall. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He rubbed the back of his neck. Maker! He needed a drink. He turned it all over again and again. He had hoped for a way… for something… some way for them to survive together. But not this… anything but this. He began to shake his head. "No, I can't… I can't do it." He looked back to Kathryn. "You can't ask me to do this, not like this." 

She looked at him nearly heartbroken. "Alistair, please, this is the only way… otherwise one of us will be sacrificed." 

"We… we don't know that will happen. We don't know what will happen." He said. "Riordan could end it as he said he would or we could both die before we get close…" 

"Or we could both be left standing over the body of an archdemon deciding which one of us dies!" Kathryn said. 

Alistair turned away, walking several paces and then stopped turning back to her. "Do you have any idea what you are asking of me?" He said. "You are asking me to betray everything I have ever been taught, every belief and principal I have ever held, every cause I have dedicated my life too, everything, everyone I have ever cared about, all I value and love… including you." 

"As a Grey Warden, I have to make sure that the Blight ends." He said. 

"But it will." Kathryn said. "This will not affect that. Morrigan said…" 

"Morrigan said… yes, she said. You trust her but I don't." He said. "And even if she is telling the truth, can you guarantee that Flemeth told her the truth?" 

"Why would Flemeth not want the Blight to end?" Kathryn said. 

"I don't know, who can possibly know what an abomination would want to happen?" He said. 

"Then as king, I have to make sure Ferelden is safe. We both know Flemeth isn't dead. Who knows what her plans for this child might be? Or how it might hurt Ferelden. Can Morrigan keep the child from her? Morrigan won't always be able to control it. What happens when it comes with an army to claim the throne?" He said. 

He turned back again pacing another few steps. "Then just the idea of my… child… my child that I will never see. Do you know how many times I swore to myself, that I would never have a bastard child? That I would never have a child that I could not be with. Then to have to give it to a women to raise who I would not allow to take care of my cat!" 

"Then of course this has to be blood magic, so add the templars and the chantry to the list, not to mention the Maker himself." He turned shaking his head. "And Morrigan? I can't just… be with someone… be with just anyone and not her, and not now, not with us… how can I betray you like that…" 

"You aren't." She said desperate. "I don't care about that. Alistair, if you had to sleep with every woman from here to the Anderfells… if that would keep you with me… I wouldn't care." 

"You say that now." He said. He took a deep breath. "I don't want to lose you. I don't. I don't want you to die and I don't want to leave you. I… I want us to be together always… but I can't do this. If I could… but I… I can't. I'm sorry." 

Kathryn looked down resigned. "It's all right." She said as she looked up. "I understand. I'll go tell her." 

She stepped up and took his hand and put something into it. "Here. No point in me keeping it anymore, is there?" 

She turned and started to walk out of the room. He looked down into his hand and there was the polished silverite band he had given her. It felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart, twisting the blade as they did so. He knew it was a dramatic gesture, a symbolic one, meant to illustrate the fact that without this ritual, they had no chance at a future together… and it worked. 

There were reasons for him not to do this, good reasons. He could weigh the pros and cons of it forever but in truth it came down to what he could live with and what he couldn't live without. 

He clenched the ring in his hand. "Kathryn!" He said through clenched teeth. 

She turned around. 

"Is this really want you want me to do?" He said. "Are you sure?" 

"Yes, I'm sure." She said. "I don't want to lose you." 

He shook his head. "I just keep thinking what would Duncan say." 

"I don't know." She said. "But I know what he did say. He said at Ostagar that he didn't want any heroics out of either of us and that is all that has been asked of us! We never should have had to bear this burden alone. This never should have been asked of us. And this… this sacrifice never should be ours to make." 

"And if it all goes wrong?" He said. 

"Then we deal with it together." She said. "Or someone else does, we have done enough, don't you think?" 

He took a deep breath. "All right. I'll do it. Oh Maker! Let's go and get this over with before I… I change my mind." 

Chapter 77: Redcliffe Part II 

77.1 Kathryn 

"Let us go somewhere more private Alistair, and believe me when I say that you will not hate this quite as much as you believe." Morrigan said and then walked out of the room. 

Kathryn had never wanted to slap someone so much in her life. She really hadn't thought there was any way to make all this worse, but apparently she was wrong. She turned to watch Morrigan disappear into the hallway. She looked back to Alistair who was shaking his head and looking like someone had punched him in the stomach or perhaps a bit lower. He sighed and then turned to her. 

There wasn't anything for them to say but both of them desperately wanted to say it, to say something to make this better, make it more bearable and less painful, but there was nothing. This was good-bye. She knew it and he did too. For after this, neither of them nor their relationship would ever be the same. 

He reached up and held her head in his hands, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. His hands dropped away from her as he took a last look and then without a word, he turned and walked out of the room. 

Kathryn could only stare straight ahead, stunned, numb, reeling. She felt empty, hollow, as though her heart, her spirit, her soul had all been torn from her body. She had done all this in a rush, without having time to think but now, the full ramification of what was happening hit her. Maker, what had she done? 

She walked to the fire and sat in front of it, staring into the flames but not seeing anything. She knew she would die a thousand times before he returned to her. But all she could do now was wait. 

77.2 Alistair 

"Get off of me!" Alistair said as he pushed Morrigan to the side and nearly off of the bed. He quickly got up, walked to the other side of the room and leaned against the wall. He was nauseous and in a cold sweat. He was breathing hard and his heart was racing. He had the thought that he might be having a heart attack, but no he couldn't be that lucky. 

Morrigan had experience with men, that was very clear. She knew tricks and techniques that he hadn't even imagined, effective techniques, for despite his revulsion with the situation, he was aroused but it wasn't causing the reaction he needed to be able to go through with this. 

He didn't really understand what was happening. That had happened, or not happened, before, but in all those cases he had either been exhausted or in pain. He had tried to think about Kathryn, imagine it was her, remember being with her, but it seemed to make it worse. The frustration was getting unbearable. 

He felt sick, disgusted with himself and with Morrigan. He felt dirty and ashamed. It occurred to him that he now had some small idea of what Kathryn had experienced during her nightmare, the feeling of being violated. He knew it wasn't the same, of course. He was allowing Morrigan to do this to him, but having to allow her to touch him in ways he would never allow anyone but Kathryn to touch him, was torture. 

He wanted to get away, to crawl in a hole somewhere, for it all to just stop, for her to stop. But it was like the darkspawn were holding a sword to Kathryn's throat. If he did not go through with this, she could die. He would never let that happen but he may not be in a position to stop it. He didn't want her to die, he didn't want to lose her, he didn't want to leave her, he wanted them to have this chance at a life together… so he had allowed Morrigan to continue, hoping that something would work and he could get this over with… but finally he just couldn't stand it any longer. 

"If you would stop being difficult, 'twould be over by now." Morrigan said impatient. 

"I'm not being difficult! I can't… I… do you think I want this to take any longer than it has to?" He said. 

"Perhaps you wish to prove your devotion to her, pretend 'tis distasteful, but she is not here and I will not tell if you take pleasure in it." She said. 

"You really think that I could take any pleasure out of… this?" He said. 

"'Tis the nature of men to take their pleasures whenever and wherever they can." She said. "You may pretend such and foster her fantasy of your devotion and fidelity but I am under no such delusion." 

"I am aware that I am attractive to men, no doubt you have desired to be with me at one time or another." She said. "Besides men are easily bored by one women. They will seek diversity. Here you can have another without guilt, for she not only knows of it but wishes you to go through with it. I have talents and am willing to use them. In truth, I see no reason that you should not enjoy the experience." 

"You vain… heartless… stupid… bitch." He said under his breath. 

"Or perhaps 'tis not true, perhaps you are having real difficulties. Kathryn must be used to such from you. Unfortunately, I am not as familiar with how to deal with impotency." She said. "Odd in that she always seemed satisfied, but perhaps she only appears so, or has such low expectations that…" 

"Will you shut up!" He said furious. "You have no right to talk about me and Kathryn. You have no idea what you are talking about. Just shut up!" 

"You are so very sensitive on the subject! I must have hit close to the mark." She said. "I had always heard that Grey Warden had legendary prowess and stamina, but 'tis apparently not true. How disappointing." 

The anger, that had been slowly simmering was beginning to boil. All the other emotions, thoughts and feelings paled in its light and heat. He was angry, angry at Morrigan, at the archdemon, the Grey Wardens, the Maker himself, all that had put him in this position, even Kathryn. She had given the ring back to him, knowing it would affect him, in an attempt to persuade him to do this. He had said no but she had manipulated him and now he was here. 

There were too many feelings, arousal and disgust, shame and frustration, love and hatred, fear and desire, but most of all the anger, and it was getting stronger. He looked at Morrigan, her smug expression. He was tired of her berating him, had enough of her tricks. He was tired of being manipulated by everyone. Something in him suddenly shattered. The anger rushed through him, pushing all aside leaving only it and the physical arousal. 

Morrigan was standing by the bed. He walked up to her. 

"Oh. I see you have decided to cooperate… I knew…" 

He grabbed her, forcibly turning her around to face the bed. He got behind her, holding her hip as he forced her upper body down onto the bed. 

"What are you… Oh!" She cried. At this point, she had no doubt figured it out. 

The cry might have been surprise or pleasure or even pain, he couldn't tell. He just wanted this to be over. He ignored the disgust he felt at what he was doing and just went faster. She cried out again. She tried to move, but he held her still. He went harder… faster… harder… faster… and then… it was over. He stepped back. 

He watched her as she slowly and with difficulty crawled onto the bed. He could tell she was in pain. He had hurt her. He hadn't meant to… hadn't intended that to happen. He had just wanted it to be over. The anger was slowly seeping away. He walked up to the bed. She didn't look up. 

"Is it… done?" He said. 

"Yes, 'tis done." She said. Her voice was weak and unsteady, much like a child's. 

He looked down. "I didn't mean to… to hurt you. You didn't tell me to stop… so I…" Icy fingers pierced his chest grabbing his heart. "You… you didn't tell me to stop... did you?" 

"No, I did not." She said. 

He could breathe again. "I… I'm sorry." He said as he laid his hand on her head but after only a moment he pulled it back, as though fearful of it being bitten. 

He quickly got dressed and walked out. 

77.3 Morrigan 

Morrigan laid on the bed. She could still feel the magic around her. She had to be quiet and still, wait for the spell to finish. Conception was tricky. She had done everything as she should but still, she waited, giving the spell the best chance to work. She had little doubt 'twould but the longer it took the weaker the spell became. 

Besides, she didn't want to move. She was in pain. He had hurt her, but there was only discomfort. There was no injury, just some minor bruising and soreness that would be gone in a day or so. She had never seen that side of him, not thought him capable of it. 

When she first met the wardens there were three men. She knew the dark headed archer would be easily had. So the fact that Alistair didn't like her didn't matter, but then as it turned out there was only him. She had tried to stir passion in him, as she always had, by playing hard to get, by berating and insulting him. Men always want what seems impossible for them to have. Such behavior had never failed to fan the flames of a man's passion for her to unreasonable limits, even those who seemed uninterested at first, but Alistair hadn't reacted so. 

Then he had gotten involved with Leliana and then Kathryn. She had to hope that his relationship, especially with Kathryn, would be enough for him to participate in the ritual, and it had. She thought he was just pretending to be loyal to her, making a show of his inability so as to appease Kathryn's jealousy. For all men will take sex freely given, and in this case 'twas even better than that, for Kathryn knew of it and wanted him to do it. 

She had done all she knew to arouse a reaction in a man but none had worked. She had feared that he would be unable to perform his part. This had not occurred to her in that it had appeared him and Kathryn had an active physical relationship. She then tried to arouse his emotions, anger and pride would often work to stir a man into action. So she had pushed and prodded, but she had not expected the violence of the response. 'Twould seem she had misjudged him completely. 

Despite that, she had not been afraid of him. With his strength and templar abilities, he could do as he wished with her but he was not the type. He had hurt her in trying to perform, but she did believe his intention was to do so. He had been pushed past a limit and the situation was unique to say the least. She knew that if she had told him to stop, made him aware of her… discomfort, he would have stopped but then there would be little chance of completing the ritual. A bit of pain was a small price for what she would gain by this. 

However, that had not been the worst of it. While it had been unpleasant, she could deal with violence and anger. But then he had touched her head as he had said he was sorry for hurting her, touched her gently and tenderly. The apology was of little consequence but the touch was worse than the pain. She could easily forgive and forget the other but that one touch, she would never forgive. She even wondered if he had done it on purpose, to get back at her. For she understood, that was the way he was with Kathryn, that was a small glimpse of what they shared. 

Love was a delusion. She had always believed that. 'Twas not real. You could not see or touch it, it had no power or purpose, but then she had felt it. 'Twas not that she wanted that with Alistair, but to be touched like that by someone, with caring and compassion… that would be worth… something. 

She knew that she would never again be touched like that and that she would never touch anyone like that. She was simply not capable of the type of feeling necessary. That had always been a point of pride for her but now she realized that she would never feel that again and she hated him for it. She had discounted his professions of love, devotion and fidelity, ridiculed his feelings and then with a touch that lasted less than the blink of an eye, he had proven them and cursed her with the knowledge that they were real, and she would never have them. 

She felt the sorrow wash over here. 'Twas foolish to regret that which cannot be had, to grieve for that which was never yours but she could not help it. Suddenly, she felt alone in a way she never had before. She had been lonely but never had this feeling of isolation. How could she… 

Then the spell was over, the magic gone. 'Twas too soon for it to have dissipated on its own, which meant that it had to have worked, achieved its purpose. She was with child! 

She smiled and then laughed and then laughed again. With child. Her child! She had never wanted anything as she had this child. She felt the rush of emotions and while before she may have discounted them, now she could not so easily and in truth had no desire to. She felt the tears trickle down her face. "My child." She whispered as she gently, tenderly touched her stomach. "My child…" 

77.4 Alistair 

Alistair stepped into the hall. He couldn't imagine how anything good could come out of what had just happened. He wanted… needed to see Kathryn, to hold her and drive all thought of this terrible night away. He wanted some comfort, some caring and tenderness, something to fill this emptiness he felt. 

She was sitting by the fire. He got so far into the room and then couldn't go on. He realized he was scared, terrified, in fact. What if she didn't accept him? What if she couldn't forgive such a betrayal? What if when he looked into her eyes he saw the same disgust, pain, regret and shame that he felt? He wasn't sure he could stand it. 

She walked up to him. He wanted to look but his courage failed him. He looked away. She was a stranger to him now. He was different than he had been when he left. He had changed and it wasn't for the better. After what he had done, he didn't deserve to touch or hold her, didn't deserve the comfort and caring he wanted so desperately. 

She reached up and took his head in her hands and gently pulled it up to face her. He tried to keep his eyes away but was forced to look at her. He braced for the worst. He looked in her eyes and saw only love and acceptance, sorrow and compassion. She wrapped her arms around him as he held her to him. He tried to talk but found he couldn't speak. He closed his eyes and held her tighter. 

Chapter 78: Road to Denerim 

78.1 Kathryn 

"I… I can't." Alistair said as he sat back on the bedroll. 

After Alistair had returned to her room, they had spent the rest of the night together wrapped in each other's arms but they had done little more than sleep. They had left Redcliffe that morning and tonight the army was making a brief stop to rest. They wanted to use this time to be together, knowing that even with the ritual done, they both may not make it through the battle. 

But while Alistair seemed to want to be with her, he wasn't in the proper physical condition to do so. That had happened before but only when he was tired or injured. She didn't think he was either right now, but something was definitely wrong. He wasn't himself and hadn't been since he had returned to her. 

Alistair stared down at the ground and rubbed his forehead. 

Kathryn raised up. "Are you all right?" She asked. 

"Yes, I'm fine… I… I want to… I just… can't." He said frustrated nearly beyond words. 

"That would seem to indicate that you're not fine." She said gently. 

"After… that, would you expect me to be?" He said sharply. 

"No, but if what happened is bothering you, perhaps it would help if you talked about it." She said. 

He started to shake his head. "I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget about it, forget it ever happened." 

"That sounds suspiciously like something I said once and as I recall it didn't work so well." She said. He stared at her and then looked away. "Please, talk to me." 

"Look, I just need a few minutes. All right?" He said. 

She could not make him talk to her, anymore than he had been able to make her talk to him, as much as she had needed to. She would expect him to have difficulties dealing with what had happened. The problem was that they didn't have much time to do so. The final battle was nearly upon them, and while his actions had bought them a chance for them both to survive, it was only a chance, nothing was guaranteed. 

While she wanted to do whatever she could to help him, she had to admit that she didn't want to hear about it, hear about him being with someone else, hear about the skills and talents Morrigan possessed, hear about how despite the situation, he enjoyed the experience at least on some level. She didn't want to think about the fact that while he had been able to complete the ritual, that now he could not perform with her. She didn't want to consider that while she knew he loved her, the experience of being with another woman may have peaked an interest, aroused curiosity about of what was out there, maybe now what they had wasn't enough for him. 

Kathryn laid back on the bedroll. It had been long couple days. Soon her eyes grew heavy and she began to drift off. She woke as Alistair grabbed her arm. He gripped her hard and pushed her onto her back. He quickly crawled on top of her, forcibly moving her legs apart. She could tell that he was now able to lie with her, but he was hurting her. 

"Alistair, no! Stop! Not like this!" She pushed him away. "I said stop!" 

Alistair let go and backed away. He looked at her confused. "What?!" He said. His voice harsh. "Don't you want…" 

"You're hurting me!" She said as she looked at the marks where he had grabbed her. 

Alistair sat back stunned. All the strength seemed to drain out of him. He looked down at the ground. He seemed… lost. He put his hand over his eyes. 

"Alistair, talk to me." She said as she reached over to put her hand on his arm. "Please." 

"You really want to know." He sounded tired and sad. "And what if you don't like what you hear? What if… what happened… what if you can't… accept it?" He looked at her. "What if after everything, I… I lose you anyway?" 

"You can't." She said. 

"Can't I?" He said with a short, bitter laugh. "You want to know what happened." He looked down and kept his eyes on the ground. "We went back to my room… got undressed… then she… she… she did things… I… I didn't want to… but I… I…" He seemed at a loss for words and just stared down. 

"…enjoyed it." Kathryn said flatly 

"No! No… physically… maybe… yes, I guess..." He said. "…but mostly I hated it… hated having to let her… do those things." He closed his eyes. "But I thought it'd be over faster if I let her… I just wanted it to be over. But… but that didn't work… I just couldn't stand it anymore and I made her stop but then she… she just wouldn't shut up… I was so angry… just disgusted with her and myself… I wanted to leave but… I couldn't because then… I just wanted it to be over." 

"What happened?" Kathryn said. 

"I… I hurt her. I… I didn't mean to, but I did. I was so angry and when I was able I… I just got it over with as fast as I could." He opened his eyes and looked back up to her. "Now are you so sure I can't lose you?" 

Kathryn couldn't breathe. It took her a couple tries before she was able to talk. "Did she tell you to stop?" 

"No." He said shaking his head. "She probably figured that if she did I'd never be able to go through with it, which was true." He sighed. "But if she had… if she had and I hadn't… listened, then what?" 

"No, you would… you would stop. I know you would." She said. 

"If you are so sure of that, then why did you ask?" He said. 

Kathryn held his eyes but had no answer. She looked away. 

Alistair took a deep breath. "Now I can't get it all out of my head, can't get any of it. It's all there, all still there, like it is still happening. I… I can't get away from it… I'm still angry…" 

"Who are you angry at?" She said. 

"Everyone. The archdemon, Morrigan, the Grey Wardens, the Maker, but mostly I… I'm angry at… you." He said. 

"Me?" She said surprised. 

"Yes, you." He said. "You made me do it. You forced me to betray everything and everyone including myself. I didn't think I was capable of… what I did… and I never would have done it if… if you hadn't…" 

Kathryn shook her head. "No, I didn't make you do…" 

"You did!" He said. "I said no! I said I couldn't do it. I told you why and then… then you gave me the ring back. You knew you could use it to manipulate me into doing it anyway. You used it to make me believe that without the ritual we had no chance at a life together!" 

"But we didn't!" She said. "You cannot blame me for making you face the reality of the situation. You wanted to believe there was some other way but there wasn't. And yes, I wanted to make that clear to you so that you could make your decision based on that and not some unrealistic hope of a happily ever after, that wasn't going to happen!" 

Kathryn ran her fingers through her hair. "And yes, I wanted you to do it. I want us to have a life together, to at least have a chance at one, but you cannot blame me for that." She said. "I don't want to lose you. I want us to survive. I want us to fight this battle together. I want you to be at my side when I face the archdemon…" 

"Why wouldn't I be?" Alistair looked confused. "Unless... you… you were going to leave me behind? If I hadn't… gone through with it, you were going to leave me behind… keep me out of the battle, weren't you?" 

Kathryn considered but really there was no point in lying to him now. "Yes." She said. 

"Why?" He said. "Why would you do that?" 

"Because you're the king. The country will need you once this is over." She said. "I am the Warden Commander and it is my duty to see the Blight ended." 

"Can we not pretend this has anything to do with our duties or me being king?" He said. 

"Fine. I wasn't going to lose you, not if I could help it." She said. "And you can't tell me you weren't planning on stopping me from taking that final blow." 

He stared at her. 

"But since I am in charge I could make sure you never had the chance." She said. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" He said. 

"Because I didn't want you to do the ritual just to save my life. I wanted you to do it because that was the only we'd be able to have a life together, so that we could live." She said. "Isn't that why you did it? So that we could be together?" Alistair looked away. 

"Alistair, you cannot lay this on me. If you do, you might as well not have bothered for you will grow to resent me until I am dead to you." She said. "I know it is easier to deal with something like this, if you can blame everyone else. But it was your choice, your decision and you have to take responsibility for it." 

Alistair looked back to her. "Kathryn, I… I don't know who I am now. Everything I thought about who I... was and what I was capable of… I… I betrayed everyone, myself, you. There is nothing… left of me." 

"That's not true." She said. "You are the very same person you have always been. But before you just adopted all the principals and values of whatever group you belonged to. But now you have to decide what of those principals and beliefs you hold. Now you find out who you truly are, but you were always that person, you have not changed at all." 

Alistair looked away. "I… I need some air." He quickly got dressed and left. 

78.2 Alistair 

Alistair started walking, not really knowing where he was going. The camp was settling in. It would be a short night but they all needed rest. There was no point rushing to Denerim if the soldiers would be too exhausted to fight. 

He heard someone call out. "Your Highness!" It took him a moment to realize that they were talking to him. He turned to see several soldiers approaching with a larger group behind them. 

"Your Highness? It is you, right?" The first solider said. 

"Yes, it is. I'm still not used to it though." Alistair said. 

"Well, begging your pardon but do you mind… I mean… we were all just wondering… can we ask you something?" The solider said. 

"Sure. What do you want to know?" Alistair said. 

"You've actually fought these… things, right? Killed them?" He said. 

"Yes, more than I can count and that's a lot, I can count pretty high." Alistair said. A small laugh traveled around the group as they circled around him. 

"Well, are they really as bad as everyone says? It is a bit hard to believe, what you hear. That they are monsters, heartless beasts that will drink your blood and eat your flesh?" He asked with a nervous laugh. 

Alistair considered. "No, they're not as bad as everyone says… they're worse, worse than you can even possibly imagine, merciless and cruel, without thought or fear. They only wish to destroy everything in their path." 

Alistair looked around to the frightened faces around him. "Look, you're all scared and if you aren't, you should be. I know I am." He said. "But we will defeat them. We will see the end of this. Ferelden will not fall. We just have to… 

"…focus on doing our duty. Yeah, we've heard all that from the captain. All about fighting for Ferelden and our… our… um… king." One of the other soldiers said. 

"And that's a load of rot, let me tell you." Alistair said to him. "Believe me when they attack, when you hear them growl and laugh, when they are upon you… you won't be thinking about doing your duty or fighting for the country or for the… me." Alistair sighed. "Tell me, you have any family?" 

"Just my mum and little brother. I got girl in the next village. We been talking about getting married after the snows come." He said. 

"Well, when you do finally see these creatures for yourself, and every instinct is telling you to run as far and as fast as you can, just remember that you are all that stands between these things and your mum, your little brother and your girl." The soldier was taken back and then looked down thoughtful. 

Alistair looked around at the group surrounding him. "That's where you find the courage to stand against them. That's how you fight against an army of monsters because you cannot do otherwise, because you cannot allow them to hurt those you love." Alistair saw the fear on the soldiers' faces turn to horror and then to determination. 

"We fight not for a country or a king but to protect our home and the people we care about, and if we stand together… united in that purpose, then we will defeat them. I know we will." He said. "Because I have fought them, I have stood against them, and I have defeated them and that's why I fight, that is where I find the courage." 

"I know I'm supposed to give you that line about protecting my land and people, honor and glory and all that, but… you see…" Alistair stopped and then looked back up to the solider and continued his voice unsteady and filled with emotion. "…you see… I have a girl too… and there is nothing…" He looked down and slowly shook his head. "…nothing… I wouldn't do to make sure she's safe." He looked around and saw the soldiers smile and nod. 

"Now all of you get some sleep. We have a long march ahead." The soldiers gave a mixed bag of salutes and bows, 'good night's and 'Maker bless you's. 

"Your Highness." Alistair turned to see the quartermaster. "Your tent is ready." 

"My tent?" Alistair said. 

"Yes. It's all ready now. Shall I show you?" He said. 

78.3 Alistair 

Alistair stepped into the king's tent. It was… nice, warm and dry, big and comfortable and there was an actual bed. He saw that it came apart for travel but was fairly sturdy. It would be much better than sleeping on the ground that's for sure. It seemed there were benefits to being king. 

He walked around the bed and noticed the outline of a women under the covers. Apparently all of the king's beds came with their own bed-warmer. Maker! 

"Hello, look… whoever is there… I don't want… please just get dressed and leave… now." He said as he threw the covers back. 

Kathryn looked up and smiled at him. "Oh, that's disappointing. I was hoping to stay here since it seems you do have the nicer tent. I mean it has a bed and everything." 

"Wait… how did you… I didn't even know about this till… how did you even get in here? Wait, on second thought, I don't want to know." He said shaking his head. 

"Do you still want me to leave?" She said. 

"No… not ever." He said with a smile. 

Kathryn sat up and sighed. "Look, if you hadn't gone through with the… with it, I would have left you behind because I couldn't risk losing you. I can't lose you. And I did try my very best to get you to do it, because what I want most of all is to be with you, always, to have you at my side in this fight as you have been this entire time. Then once my duty is done, I wish nothing more than to stand by your side in all of your fights that are to come. I don't want to abandon you. Not now, not with so much ahead of us." She said. "But I didn't really consider how difficult it would be for you. It was selfish. I am sorry, and I hope you can forgive me." 

Alistair shook his head. "No, you were right. I wasn't going to let you take that blow, if there was any way I could prevent it, not just because I love you but because I don't want to be without you either. I know I could go on, if I had to, but I'd rather not. I'd rather be with you." 

"Kathryn, I want us to have a life together and with it all so close... I was hoping something would come up, that somehow we could survive it. Just not that, pretty much anything but that." He said. "But I can't forgive you, there is nothing to forgive. You didn't make me do anything. You just showed me that there was no other way and once I realized that… I knew what I had to do, what I wanted to do. And maybe I'm not exactly who I thought I was, but that's not necessarily a bad thing, is it?" 

"No, not necessarily." She said. "So, you're fine with it?" 

"Um… better." He said. "Much better now." 

Kathryn smiled and held out her hand for him. "Come. We should get some sleep." 

Alistair took her hand but instead of letting her pull him to the bed he pulled her up to standing. "I have a better idea. How about we… we try again?" 

"All right." She said. "What do you want me to do?" 

"Nothing." He said. "Absolutely nothing. Just… close your eyes and don't say or do anything at all until I tell you to open them, all right?" She looked at him curiously and then closed her eyes. 

Kathryn stood there for several moments. She could feel his eyes run over every curve of her body. Then he touched her with the tenderness and gentleness she knew so well. Slowly, he took off the rest of her clothing. He gently touched each part of her, going over every inch of her skin. 

Then he stepped back. She listened to the sounds of him removing his clothing. He stood in front of her. He touched her face, tracing down her neck, chest, stomach, to her hips and then holding them and pressing his against her. He was ready. He wrapped his arms around her, bringing his lips close to hers, then he whispered. "Open your eyes." 

78.4 Eamon 

Eamon heard the door to the war room open. The palace was mostly deserted as nearly everyone had gone to the docks to try to escape the city before the darkspawn arrived. 

He looked up to see a messenger. "Your Grace." 

"Yes, what is it?" Eamon said. 

"Message from the scouts. They have spotted the horde." The messenger said. 

"Where or rather when… when will they attack?" Eamon said. 

"They say it will reach the city in less than half a day." The messenger said. 

"Maker!" Eamon said. He picked up the letter from Kathryn. The earliest the army could reach Denerim was tomorrow. He put the letter down. "Tell all the captains. Tell them to do what they can in the time we have. We will try to evacuate as many as possible and then try to hold back the hoard until the army arrives." 

"Yes, Your Grace." The messenger bowed and then hurried off. 

Eamon stood and walked over to a chest and opened it. Inside was a set of armor. Eamon picked up the chestpiece. He just hoped it still fit. 

Eamon walked out to the city gate. He could see the horde off in the distance with the archdemon flying above them, approaching like the tide and nearly as unstoppable. 

One of the captains walked up to him. "Your Grace, I thought you would have evacuated by now." 

"No, I will not leave the city. I will stand and fight with the rest." Eamon said. The captain smiled at him. 

Eamon stepped up onto one of the barricades as the soldiers gathered around him. 

"Soldiers of Ferelden! We stand here as the last line of defense. We are the last ones that stand between Ferelden and the horde. 

"We stand here to protect our home. We stand here to protect our people. We stand here to protect each other. 

"We stand here so that Fereden will not fall to the blight, not while we still draw breath. 

"We will stand here together as one and hold back the horde until our king and countrymen return and then together we will defeat this blight!" 

"We are here! We are ready! Let them come!" 

Chapter 79: Last Camp 

79.1 Kathryn 

"It is not often one gets lamb and pea stew made by royalty!" Wynne said. 

"And I must say that it tastes as though it was made by a king." Zevran said with a smile. 

"Ah… thank you?" Alistair said unsure if he should be. 

"You know…" Leliana said as she helped herself to a portion. "…I'm not sure if your cooking has improved or if…." 

"…I will side with whatever you are about to say, myself." Zevran said. 

"Oh, Alistair's lamb and pea stew, my favorite!" Jowan said with exaggerated enthusiasm. "I must admit that your cooking has gotten worse the further away I get from imminent starvation." 

"May I remind you that I'm still a templar?" Alistair said exasperated. 

"No, you may not." Jowan said taking his portion and hurrying to the other side of the fire. 

"Ah, I see some things don't change, no matter how we might wish them too." Roland said as he helped himself. "I just hope you make a better king than you do a cook." 

"Don't we all." Leliana said with a smile. 

"I'm glad you all take such enjoyment out of making fun of my cooking." Alistair said. 

"We must take some enjoyment out of it, my friend." Zevran said. "For we get very little eating it." 

Kathryn looked around the camp. Everyone was talking and laughing. If you didn't know better you would think it was one of the hundreds of nights they had spent in camp. But it wasn't. This was the last one. Tomorrow would be the last leg of the journey to Denerim. 

There was a nervousness underlying the chatter and the laughter, as though they could feel the weight of all that was before them, like a giant rock in the middle of camp that no one wanted to admit to being there, least it take away these last few happy moments. They all gathered close, savoring this last night they would spend as a group. As much as they sometimes didn't get along, disagreed and even fought among themselves, they had become a kind of family. 

The meal was finished. Oghren who was surprisingly sober, suggested a round of cards. Everyone said yes. The cards were dealt and drawn. Alistair opened up a new bottle of very good brandy and passed it around. There was joking and laughing as hand after hand was played. Finally the last hand was dealt. Everyone got quiet and watched as the cards were handed out. 

Oghren took a drink of the brandy and then passed the bottle. He looked down at his cards but didn't pick them up. "Heh… last hand. Guess I'm all in." He threw all his coins into the pile. 

"Well said, my dwarven friend…" Zevran said and threw his coins into the pile. "…well said." 

"Aren't we all?" Roland said as he also did so. 

"Indeed." Leliana said as she threw her coins on top. 

"Yes, I guess we are." Jowan said as he put his remaining coins on the pile. One by one all the rest put their coins into the pot, until Kathryn was the only one left. She took her coins and put them on the pile. 

All of them looked to her and waited. 

She looked around at the group, her friends and companions. The ones that had stood with her and Alistair in their impossible task. There had been struggle and strife but there had also been laughter and joy. Perhaps they would not be enough, perhaps despite all they would lose, that it was truly hopeless, but it didn't feel that way. She had lead them, given them direction and redemption, had helped and encouraged them but they in turn had given her hope. 

"I…" Kathryn said but couldn't get much farther. She looked at each one and smiled. But for one of the few times in her life words completely failed her. She bowed her head and desperately tried to get a hold of herself but failed. 

Alistair could tell Kathryn couldn't go on. Before, he would have simply allowed the moment to pass, but there was something that needed said and if she couldn't, then he would. 

He took a deep breath. "You know, this was our fight, our duty to fulfill. And I know that I didn't have the slightest idea of how we would ever be able to defeat a blight much less stop a civil war by ourselves. And the truth of it is that we couldn't have, but then again we didn't have to. We had all of you." 

"All of you choose to stand with us, despite the risks and the danger. And because of that we now have a chance to save Ferelden, and I want to thank you for that." He sighed. "I don't know what will happen tomorrow, but, it has been an honor to fight alongside all of you. Now all of us should get some sleep." 

He stood and took Kathryn's hand and they disappeared into their tent. The rest looked at each other. There was so much to say but none of it really needed said. Without a word they each went to their tents. 

Sigrun slowly walked away, waiting till the rest were gone, then she hurried back. She had heard tell that sometimes you could see people's fortunes in the cards they drew. She turned over all the hands. 

Kathryn had drawn the Serpent-entwined Dagger. Alistair, the Angel of Fortitude. Roland, the Knight of Sacrifice. Jowan had drawn the Angel of Charity. Zevran… the Angel of Death. She looked at her own hand. It held the Serpent of Sadness. 

79.2 Alistair 

As they entered their tent, Kathryn turned to Alistair. "Thank you. I… wanted to… say… I mean I knew what to… I just… have I mentioned I'm no good at speeches? At least giving them?" 

"Believe me you didn't have to." He said. 

She smiled weakly and shook her head. Then she took his hand. "It will be all right, won't it?" 

He looked her in the eye. "Of course, it will." 

"Liar." She said with a smile as she put her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her. 

Alistair took a deep breath. "Kathryn…" 

"I know." She said as she held him tighter. "I know." 

79.3 Zevran 

Zevran wrapped his arms around Sigrun, resting his head on the back of her shoulder, listening to her heart beat. 

He had never feared dying. You cannot be an assassin or at least not a successful one and fear that. But he found that he wanted to stay with her and wanted even more for her to stay with him. He had never wanted to become attached to anything or anyone, for he knew that the Maker only takes that which you don't want to lose. 

He felt Sigrun move. She shifted slightly, took his hands in hers and drifted back to sleep. He held her tighter, closed his eyes and whispered. "Please." 

79.4 Kathryn 

"I don't know what to say." Alistair whispered to her. They were nearly to Denerim, off in the distance they could just see the dark clouds that had gathered over the city. 

"What?" She said confused. 

"I should say something, you know to the soldiers, before the battle. You know, something inspiring." He said. "But I don't know what to say." 

"Oh, that's easy." She said. 

"It is?" He said surprised. It didn't seem that way to him. 

"Yes." She said. "If you wish to inspire them, start with what inspires you." 

Alistair considered and then looked back to Kathryn and smiled. "I can do that." 

79.5 Eamon 

Eamon felt that he had aged ten years in the last few days. He had very little sleep, nearly every bone, joint and muscle in his body ached from injury, overuse or pure exhaustion. But worse than that, they were losing the city. 

The darkspawn had broken through the gates yesterday. They had done all they could to hold them back but it seemed for every one you killed three more took its place. They'd had to fall back again and again, retreat deeper into the heart of Denerim. Nearly every sector had been infiltrated. Fires raged everywhere. Now, their fallback positions were weakening. Soon they would have no choice but to abandon the city and those still trapped within entirely. 

"Your Grace!" Eamon turned to see a messenger running towards him. He braced for the news. "Your Grace!" The messenger stopped out of breath. "They're here!" 

"What!?" Eamon said. "The horde has broken through!" 

"No! The king! The army! They're here!" The messenger said. 

Eamon ran past him to the windows. He looked out to the east, just as the army charged down the hill. "By the Maker! We will not surrender the city!" He turned to the messenger. "Go! Give the signal! Send out the word! All companies are to regroup and rendezvous at the main gate. Go! Now!" The messenger speed off. 

Eamon watched the charge. He thought that it might just be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

79.6 Kathryn 

Kathryn looked around as everyone regrouped inside the city walls. They had broken through the mass of darkspawn surrounding the city and had retaken the main city gate. It wasn't much but it was a start. 

She turned as she heard Eamon shouting. He ran to them, embracing both Alistair and her in turn. 

"What is the situation?" She asked Eamon. 

He shook his head. "The city is overrun. They broke through yesterday. We tried to hold them… I have called the rest of the defenders to abandon the fallback positions and regroup here. The city will have to be retaken, street by street. Fires have broken out everywhere. All the evacuations boats that were able to, left but many could not escape. I fear a quarter… maybe even a third of the population is still trapped in the city." 

"Including the poorest of the poor, no doubt." Zevran said. "And I would bet my last Antivan silver that not one Alienage elf made it onto those boats." 

Eamon started to look indignant, even insulted but then considered and said with a sigh. "I… I don't know. The word was given to them to evacuate, but I… I don't know." 

"They may have been reluctant to trust given that the last time humans tried to 'help' them they were being sold into slavery." Wynne said. 

"Reluctant? Perhaps? Or they may have been prevented from escaping till those more worthy were saved." Zevran said. 

"Enough." Kathryn said as Riordan joined them. 

Riordan quickly outlined his plan and told them of the generals in the Alienage and the market. 

Kathryn turned to Alistair. Several looks passed between them. With the decisions made, she turned to the group. "Roland," 

"If you think I'm staying behind..." He started. 

"I don't." She said with a smile. "You're with us." 

"Where you should be." Alistair said. Roland smiled. 

"Jowan, you too." Kathryn said. 

"Oh, is it too late to rethink the whole seeking redemption thing?" Jowan said. 

"Yes!" Kathryn, Alistair and Roland all answered. 

"Thought so." He said resigned… and then smiled. 

Kathryn turned to the rest. "Sten, take half to the market. Oghren, the rest to the Alienage. Find the generals. Then return and help the army hold the gate until… just hold the gate. We'll call if you are needed. Understood?" 

"Yes, kadan." Sten said. 

"Then, let's get on with it already." Oghren said. 

"Nothing you have done will have prepared you for what you are about to face. Good luck." Riordan said and then he quickly left. 

Without a word, the remaining group split. Wynne, Zevran and Sigrun with Oghren, while Morrigan, Leliana and Drake were going with Sten. 

This was it. 

Oghren turned to Sten. "Heh, I bet I get mine first!" 

"You are so insignificant you will have to be careful that the darkspawn do not step on you." Sten said. 

"Ah… well… your mother!" Oghren said. 

"That was… disappointing." Sten said. "I expected better from you." 

"Well, I was in a hurry." Oghren said embarrassed. 

Leliana hugged Roland, Wynne, then Alistair and Kathryn. 

Wynne put a hand on Alistair's check, she seemed intent on pinching it but then smiled sadly and simply patted it. She walked over to Jowan and whispered something, walking away before he could respond. 

Alistair walked over to where Morrigan was standing slightly apart from the rest. 

"I guess you're leaving then." Alistair said. 

"Yes. No matter the outcome I will be gone." Morrigan said. A moment, then another passed. Then Morrigan said softly. "I bear you no ill will for… 'tis done. 'Tis all that matters." 

Alistair nodded then said. "Morrigan, I… can I ask… will you promise me something." 

Morrigan shook her head. "I have given my word that the child will not threaten…" 

"No, I… I know… that's not what I meant. I… I want you to tell… to promise that you'll tell the… child the truth… you know… about me." 

"I have no intention of lying to them." She said. 

"I mean… I want you to tell…" Alistair stopped and took a deep breath. "I want you to tell them… I want them to know that I… I didn't… abandon them. That you… you… Please, Morrigan. You may not think that it will matter to them, but it… it will." 

Morrigan considered and then slowly nodded. "Yes, I will tell them." 

"Thank you." He said relieved. "Well, then… um… good bye." He turned and began to walk back to the rest. 

"I cannot tell them who you are." She said. Alistair turned back. "To honor my word that the child not threaten Ferelden and to keep them safe I must keep certain things from them and that is perhaps the most important of those things." 

Alistair considered and then nodded. 

"But I will make sure that they know that their father was a… a good man… a brave and fine warrior." She said. 

"Thank you." He said, and then walked back to the gate. 

Kathryn was waiting for him. 

"So this is it." He said as he stood in front of her. "Soon it will be over, one way or the other." 

Kathryn knew this was not the time for emotional outbursts or hysterics, but she couldn't help blurting out. "I love you Alistair." 

"And I love you." He said as he stepped closer to her and taking her head in his hands. "… always." He kissed her. 

Then together they turned towards the gate. 

Chapter 80: The Final Battle 

80.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn, Alistair, Roland and Jowan emerged onto the rooftop of Fort Drakon. They had fought their way through the city, through scores of darkspawn and now, at last, they faced the archdemon. 

Kathryn had seen a high dragon before in the mountains of Haven and fought one or at least the form of one in the battle with Flemeth but this… this was different, for not only was this a high dragon but one tainted by darkspawn, driven mad by its corruption but also strengthened and empowered by it. 

This was it. 

All they had fought for, sacrificed and lost, everything, the survival of Ferelden itself, all of it depended on them on the outcome of this fight... all of it came down to this. 

Jowan threw fire and ice at the creature. Kathryn pelted it with bombs and laced her blades with poison as Alistair and Roland attacked it with their swords. Although, it was not enough for the creature to die, it must be killed by her or Alistair, a blade must be driven through its head while it still lived and one of their hands had to hold it or it would all be for naught. 

They were thrown back as the dragon flapped its wings and rose into the air. With its injury it could do little more than make exaggerated jumps about the rooftop and force them to chase it. As Kathryn regained her feet, she noticed the balisticas. She ran to the closest one, arming, aiming and firing at the beast. Several more of these and they might… but then it jammed. As quickly as she could she cleared the mechanism and fired a few more shots before it jammed again. 

She would really have to talk with someone about the quality of the royal defenses. She nearly had it cleared when she instinctively ducked. She looked up to see the hurlock's sword slice through the air where her head had been. She countered its next strike and gutted it, pushing it off her daggers as the next one attacked her. She kicked then sliced clean through its neck, as its head and then body fell to the stone, she quickly looked around and saw more darkspawn pour onto the rooftop. 

Things had just gotten a lot more interesting. 

80.2 Sigrun 

Oghren, Wynne, Zevran and Sigrun had arrived at the Alienage. On their way here, they had met one of the groups of Dalish archers who had already entered the city through a side entrance and were attempting to rendezvous with the army at the main gate. After telling them of their mission, the archers had joined them and sent word to the rest of the Dalish army. 

After walking through the apparently deserted Alienage, they found a small group of defenders by the barred gate, which was all that was holding back dozens of darkspawn from entering the Alienage. The Dalish army arrived and joined their Alienage counterparts setting up their position around the gate. 

Then the attack on the gate stopped. They all watched as an ogre began to attack the gate. It wouldn't take long for it to break through. They all got ready and silently waited. 

Zevran drew his daggers, lacing them with poison. "You stay with Oghren." Zevran whispered to Sigurn. 

Sigrun didn't like the sound of that. "But… why? Where are you going?" 

"Do not worry, my dear little one." He said with a smile. "You just stay with him." 

"Zevran, don't do anything stupid." She said. "Please." 

Zevran brushed back a lock of her hair and kissed her forehead. She turned at the sound of the gate splintering as the ogre broke through. She looked back and Zevran was gone. 

She remembered the card game at camp, the last hand and the cards drawn. Kathryn, the Serpent-entwined Dagger. Alistair, the Angel of Fortitude. Roland, the Knight of Sacrifice. Jowan, the Angel of Charity. Zevran had drawn the Angel of Death and she… the Serpent of Sadness. 

Oghren let out a war cry as he attacked. Sigrun followed staying close on his heels. 

80.3 Jowan 

Jowan was doing his best to stay out of the fighting which was about as easy as not getting wet in the middle of a thunderstorm. They had made it to the rooftop but as they were fighting the archdemon, dozens of darkspawn had suddenly emerged, apparently to defend their master. 

They had been in immediate danger of getting overwhelmed when the dwarves appeared. The Legion of the Dead led by Kardol, in fact. He had shouted to Kathryn that he had seen the dragon fall and they had immediately set out for the fort. He had also, thankfully, alerted the rest of the dwarven squads and they were on their way. 

Kathryn had thanked him and told him a warden must be the one to kill the archdemon. He said that they would keep the horde busy and they were doing just that. Kathryn, Alistair and Roland were again able to concentrate on the archdemon. Jowan's job was to keep the others fighting while throwing the occasional fireball. 

But as the battle wore on, things were getting more desperate. He had used his life force to fuel his spells, then used his mana to heal himself, then did it again, and then again, using lyrim potions to restore his depleted mana. It was a potent combination. 

He looked down at the slight blue cast to his skin. His hands were shaking and his vision blurry. He had taken as many lyrim potions as he could. He wasn't worried about lyrim poisoning, it was far too late to worry about that now, but more problematic was the fact that each potion you took was less effective than the last. For him to have taken so many in such a short time, he doubted even a potent lyrim potion would have any effect on him at all, unless it killed him outright. He would have to wait at least an half an hour before the effect would wear off but he feared that by then the battle would be over. He had resorted to using health potions to renew his life force but now even the health potions had virtually no effect. 

He looked over at where the others were fighting the archdemon, he could tell they were tiring. The spirit that aided him was also weakening. He could feel it begin to withdraw. He knew he could ask no more of it. He expressed his gratitude to it as best he could and felt as it disappeared back into the Fade. He had nothing left. He looked and saw Roland, driven to his knees, Kathryn fell to the ground, as even Alistair was pushed back. They needed help now. 

All he had was his life, the life he had forfeited by practicing forbidden arts, by trying to poison a man. The life Kathryn had saved and given back to him and with it, the opportunity to do something good with it. 

He had one last idea. With blood magic you can take the health from allies to heal yourself, he had been thinking there must be a way to give it back, to give his health to them. But not through a spell of healing but the raw life force and if that was possible, it would be so much more potent than a healing spell. 

The problem was that while he had an idea of how to start the process, he had no idea how to stop it, and even if he did, if the spell took very much of it he might not be conscious enough to stop it. Normally the spell would stop itself when the recipient received all the life force they could hold, but that could result in the death of the donor. One of them might not take all of his life but all three of them would most certainly take all he had. 

But if there was ever a time for it, this was it. He took one last breath of the air, one last thought of gratitude to those he could now call friends, one last hope that wherever Lily was she would one day forgive him, and one last prayer to the Maker that if he was listening, that this work. 

His hands flared red and then the world went black. 

80.4 Leliana 

Leliana looked around. The Market was in ruins, buildings on fire or collapsed or both. At first the entire area looked deserted but then she saw the first ogre, and the second, and then the third. 

Sten drew his sword and charged with what she could only call controlled rage. Drake followed him. She looked to Morrigan. They both knew they had to weaken Sten's target while stalling the attacks of the others, giving him a chance to take them out one at a time. 

They coordinated their dance, her arrows and bombs with Morrigan's spells, following Sten's lead and one by one the ogres fell. As they approached the chantry, they saw the general. Sten attacked. The fight was intense but as Sten fell to his knees, the general fell dead. 

Leliana could see another ogre heading towards Sten but Sten did not. She fired arrow after arrow, but the ogre seemed not to notice them. 

"Morrigan!" Leliana screamed. 

"I… am… trying." She said. Leliana looked to her but while she was casting with all she had left it was having little effect. 

Leliana watched helpless as Sten raised his head, seeing the ogre but too late to be able to defend the coming blow. She could see his countenance change, the acceptance of death in Sten's bearing. He had gotten his revenge, accomplished his given task. He would die with his sword in his hand on the field of battle. For Sten it was enough. 

Then Drake leaped in front of Sten, grabbing the ogre's hand in his jaws. They heard the bones shatter as the creature raged in pain. It grabbed Drake and threw him to the ground. 

The ogre turned back to its target, but it no longer saw an accepting prey but a enemy with fire and hatred in his eyes. Drake had distracted the creature long enough for Sten to recover and react. Sten charged the ogre, blow after blow landed as he forcing the ogre to the ground and then drove his sword through its head. The ogre jerked and then was still. Sten turned as another ogre approached. It too fell before him. The market was clear. 

Sten pulled his sword from the body of the ogre and walked to where Drake lay motionless. He knelt beside the animal that had saved his life and placed his great hand on Drake's head. 

Sten bowed his head. "Kost, kadan" 

80.5 Sigrun 

Sigrun watched as Oghren pulled his axe from the skull of the ogre. Whatever his faults and he had many, she had to admit he was a remarkable fighter. 

More and more darkspawn were crossing into the Alienage but hardly any made it to them without being crippled by the archers' arrows. The few that made it past were easily taken down by the Dalish warriors. 

She could feel Wynne's healing energy, even as a dwarf, but she had lost track of Zevran, and that worried her. Here and there, she would see a darkspawn suddenly fall dead and knew that was Zevran's doing but she didn't like not knowing where he was. 

For a moment the area was clear. Sigrun hardly had time to catch her breath when the next wave attacked, and with them was the general they had been sent to kill. 

"That's him!" She heard Oghren say. "You ready, you spicy kumpquat?" 

"Oghren, if you ever call me that again, I'll…" 

"Heh, I'll take that as a yes." Oghren said then charged. She followed but suddenly the ground began to buckle and move. Sigrun and Oghren both fell. 

She looked around, most of the elves had also be driven to the ground, along with many but not all the darkspawn, and those on their feet were getting past and around them. Then she saw the emissary and the fireball it was casting. 

While dwarves are resistant to magic per se, they are not resistant to its effect, such as the earthquake and while the fireball itself they may resist, if their surroundings catch on fire, they will burn like any other. She looked around. The Alienage housing was so fragile, such a blast could easily cause the buildings to ignite or even topple, and once ablaze, it would only take moments for the entire area to be engulfed in flames. 

The general was advancing with more darkspawn behind them, if they didn't do something now they would be surrounded and cut off from the rest. She struggled but could do nothing more than lie helpless on the ground. 

Then the ground stopped moving. She hurried to her feet. She looked up to see Zevran pulling his daggers from the emissary's back. The fireball disappeared. But he had gotten the attention of the general and those with him. The general attacked him. 

She wanted to cry out to Zevran to dodge, counter, something. But she saw from his expression, that he had known this would happen, that he was well aware that if he focused on the emissary that he probably wouldn't have time to defend an attack from the others. He turned quickly to try and counter the oncoming blow but was too late. The general's sword struck Zevran in the side. He fell in an awkward heap. 

The general started to raise his blade but then turned in time to see the darkspawn beside him cut down by Oghren's battleaxe. As the last one fell, Oghren attacked him. 

Sigrun ran to Zevran, weaving and dodging through the oncoming darkspawn. As she knelt beside him, she saw that while there was a growing pool of blood around him and a vicious wound to his torso, he was still alive. She looked up to see that they were now surrounded. 

She stood and took out her axe and dagger. 'By the ancestors…' she thought. 'They will not touch him!' 

80.6 Roland 

Roland felt the rush of magic over and through him. He felt filled with energy, strength and health. It was the most powerful healing spell he had ever felt and did he ever need it. He was able to look up as Jowan was thrown back, landing hard upon the ground. He said a quick prayer but knew that at the very least they would have no more help from him in this battle. 

They were making headway against the archdemon and with this last push they had a chance to kill it, but he knew they were running out of time. More and more darkspawn were reaching the rooftop and the dwarves could only hold out for so long. He glanced over to Alistair and Kathryn. A quick nod and they all attacked. 

The dragon managed to push back both him and Alistair and was able to focus on Kathryn, employing the tried and true strategy of taking out the weakest opponent first. He watched as the beast violently threw her to the ground. She landed hard on the stone and didn't move. 

The archdemon flapped its wings but was barely able to move to another area of the rooftop. He knew that this was where the beast would have to make its last stand. 

He looked to where Kathryn lay. From here there was no way to tell if she was still breathing, but there was no time to go to her and find out. Alistair made his way to him. 

"If you have a suggestion, I'd love to hear it." Alistair said. 

"I do." Roland said. "I get its attention and get you an opening to attack." 

"How?" Alistair asked. 

"I… trust me." Roland said. "Just… just don't miss it." 

"I won't." Alistair said. A look passed between them. 

"Then let's go." Roland said. 

They charged. 

Roland hacked and slashed with all he had left. This was the last chance they had to kill the creature, to stop the Blight and save Ferelden, to save their home and those they cared for. He had promised to get Alistair and opening and he knew one way that was guaranteed to get the dragon's attention. 

He struck, countered and then took a last desperate swing, putting all he had into it, he hit the beast in its face, but lost his grip on his sword in the process. He closed his eyes and whispered "Helena" as the creature attacked. 

The last thing he heard was the roar. 

80.7 Wynne 

Wynne watched helpless as Sigrun ran into the mob of oncoming darkspawn to where Zevran lay still. She tried to reach him with her magic, but she was weakening and the distance was too great. 

Oghren attacked, blocked, countered, and then with a mighty swing nearly cut the general in two. He took a moment and then started to where Zevran and Sigrun were, swinging his axe in wide and deadly arcs. 

Wynne called upon the spirit and sent them all waves of healing energy. She peered through the oncoming mob, as a hail of arrows assaulted those that made it to the gate. Then she saw Oghren emerge dragging Zevran behind him, as Sigrun followed at his heels, tossing grenades behind them. They made it through the gate. Oghren dropped off his passenger and turned, charging back into the mob. 

Wynne hurried over to Zevran. Sigrun looked to her, desperation and hope in equal parts. "Wynne?" 

Wynne put her hand on Zevran's head and then on his chest. She looked down and then back to Sigrun. 

80.8 Alistair 

Alistair saw Roland take the hit from the dragon. He ground his teeth. Damn him! He thought but there was no time for anything else, true to his word Roland had given him an opening and true to his, he didn't miss it. 

He struck, slicing through the creature's eye. It roared in pain, and lashed out. He raised his shield in time to deflect the blow. It lunged at him. He bashed the side of its head. The creature was momentarily stunned. He jumped onto its neck. 

The dragon twisted and snapped its head back, desperately trying to throw him. Alistair held on. He could feel the muscles and sinew in his shoulder tear, but still he held… waiting… waiting… He couldn't deliver the final blow from here but he could bring the creature down, cripple it. He held and waited, when the dragon finally stopped, exhausted and unsure how to dislodge him, he drove his sword deep into the back of the dragon's neck. 

Blood poured out of the creature as it roared in pain, tossing Alistair off. He landed hard but knew the blow he had given the creature was a mortal blow, enough to bring it down. He just had to wait for it to fall, wait and gather enough strength to deliver that final blow, but… as he watched the creature roar and stagger, he realized while what he had done was enough to bring down a high dragon, it wasn't enough to bring down an archdemon. 

Driven by pain, insanity and instinct, it had enough in it for on last strike, one more killing blow and he… had nothing left. His sword was still in the creature and his shield knocked several feet away. He was exhausted, in severe pain and crippled from broken bones and twisted joints. He had put all he had into that blow, gambling that is was enough. He hadn't the strength to defend himself, to flee, or to even get to his knees. All he could do was watch the beast approach. With time the creature would die of the wound he had given it, but he knew that wasn't enough. Then with its death, it... the Blight would all begin again. It… this… all of it… everything… it had all been for nothing. 

He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry." He whispered. 

He waited but the death blow didn't come. He opened his eyes. The dragon had turned away from him. He followed its gaze and saw Kathryn running towards it holding a greatsword. She had been on the side with its blinded eye, it hadn't seen her approach… and now it was too late. The creature was too injured, too weak, to crippled to defend itself. It lunged at her but she easily avoided it, diving under the beast catching its underbelly, tearing it open. Blood poured out onto the stone. It fell onto its side. 

'No, wait!' He wanted to shout. 'Let me!' But he hadn't the strength and he knew it wouldn't matter even if he did. She would never let him take this blow, not if she could help it. Not only because she loved him but this had been her fight and she would see it through, no matter what. 

He watched as she raised the sword over the archdemon's head and with a scream plunged it into the dragon's skull. 

Chapter 81: The Rooftop 

81.1 Kathryn 

Kathryn didn't know how long she had been unconscious but looking around it couldn't have been long. They were still on the rooftop, she heard the sounds of battle, and the roar of the archdemon. Her head was throbbing, it hurt to breathe, the light was painfully bright. She looked around and saw that Alistair and Roland were attacking the archdemon. She struggled to her feet. 

She watched as it attacked Roland, as Alistair charged it, blinding it then driving his sword into its neck. She realized that the blow he had delivered wasn't enough to bring the creature down. She watched the dragon move toward him, saw the greatsword, and started running. 

She grabbed the sword in stride and kept going. The dragon wasn't looking at her, hadn't noticed her, at least not yet. She kept running. She kept her eyes on the creature, focused and determined. She had a thought that she might trip or the knee that was screaming in agony might give or any one of a thousand things could go wrong, but somehow she knew that wouldn't happen. Not now. 

She watched the dragon turn towards her but it was weak and slow. It lunged at her but she dived under the creature, gutting it. She got to her feet and stood over the dragon. She saw the slightest glimmer of life in its eye. She raised the sword over her head and with a scream plunged the sword into the archdemon's head. 

81.2 Alistair 

Alistair watched helpless as the light engulfed Kathryn. He wanted to help her, to free her, to save her, but he knew that he couldn't. Whatever he might do, may somehow upset whatever was happening and with them so close he could not risk that his actions would somehow prevent the Blight ending. 

He had done all he could and now he would have to wait and pray. He watched and waited. And though it may have lasted only moments, they were the longest of his life. 

81.3 Kathryn 

Kathryn saw the light and felt something surge through her. Power… strong… it was like being struck with lighting but yet… not. She struggled, although she was unsure if she was trying to hang onto the sword or let it go… or perhaps both. 

Then for a moment all seemed to recede from her, light, sound, even her own body seemed to move away from her. It was as though something was trying to push her out of this world, into a realm of soft darkness. 

For a moment she thought to let it, to simply let go but no… she held on and pushed back. She felt the power of whatever it was surge against her and then… it was gone. 

81.4 Alistair 

The first thing Alistair was aware of was the pain, and there was a lot, too much for him to be dead, that's for sure. He opened his eyes and as quickly as his injuries would allow he raised up and looked around. No one was standing on the rooftop, for a moment he feared he was the only one alive but then there and there he saw movement as others began to stir. 

He turned back and saw the body of the archdemon. It was dead. The Blight was over. He could feel the truth of it. Now it was only to be determined what this victory had cost them. He had to find Kathryn. He looked around and… there she was… laying still… so very still. 

He tried to get up but did so too quickly and found himself back on the ground. With slow and deliberate action, he was able to get to his feet. His entire body hurt. He didn't want to think about the twisted joints, tore muscles or broken bones he had probably sustained. 

He started to limp towards her. He watched her, searched for any sign of life but couldn't see any. He was beginning to panic. He tried to go faster but his knee buckled. He overbalanced and he fell back to the ground. He crawled the last few yards. 

He looked at her. She was pale, very, very pale. There was blood, a lot of it, in fact. He reached towards her, his hand shaking. He tried to say her name but all he could manage was a painful whisper. He carefully, gently touched her check and… nothing… no reaction… no response… no movement… nothing at all. He placed his hand on her chest… she wasn't breathing. 

She was dead. 

81.5 Jowan 

Jowan opened his eyes which was a great surprise to him. He was sure the spell would work and if it worked he would be dead… but he wasn't. He didn't understand. He looked around and saw the dwarves and a few others laying on the ground but starting to stir and rise. He kept looking and saw… By the Maker! The archdemon was laying on its side with a greatsword through its head! Was it truly possible... that they had... won! 

But that didn't answer the question of why he was still alive. He looked at his hands, the blue cast was gone and they were steady. He didn't know how long he had been out but it had been enough for his mana to fully regenerate and for him to become clear of the lyrim. 

He looked around and saw Alistair with Kathryn. He couldn't tell how they were but Alistair wasn't calling for help. Then he saw Irving kneeling next to the body of a… Roland! 

He quickly got to his feet and made his way to them. 

Irving looked up as Jowan approached. He looked surprised to see him… well, 'shocked' would really be a better word. "Jowan! What are you doing…" 

"Long story. How is he?" Jowan said. 

Irving looked down at Roland. "Nothing can be done for him." 

"What!" Jowan said. "But he's still alive!" 

"Yes, but his wounds are beyond a healer's skill and are such that he will succumb to them presently." Irving said. 

"But… what's wrong with him?" Jowan said. 

"He has many internal injuries but they do not matter for he has a major wound to his head. There is bleeding inside his skull and such cannot be stopped, at least not here and not soon enough to stop the pressure of the blood causing irreversible damage and eventually his mind and then his body to shut down. Nothing can be done for him." Irving said sadly. 

"No, I… I can help him." Jowan knelt down beside Roland. He opened his journal, quickly flipping through the pages. 

"What? How can you…" Irving started. 

"Are you all really that dense?" Jowan asked. "He's BLEEDING! Don't you understand?" 

Irving looked confused and then the implications of what Jowan said struck him. "You intend… no, I cannot allow the use of such foul and evil magic upon a good and honorable man." 

"If it saves his life, then how can you say it is evil?" Jowan asked. "I will not just allow him to die not when I can do something that might save him. I know I shouldn't have done it, but I did. I was just so frightened of being made tranquil or failing the Harrowing. I… I can't change what I've done. I can't unlearn it or forget I know what I do, but I can try to do good with it. Please, Irving don't try to stop me. I won't let him die without at least trying everything I can think of to save him." 

Irving started to say something and then was silent. 

Jowan turned back to his book. He found the passage he was looking for. He put the book down and ran his hand over Roland's head, a weak blue light flowed out of his fingers. 

He opened up the link to the Fade, hoping that the spirit would be there. He waited knowing that Roland didn't have much time. Nothing… nothing… then there it was, as though it had always been. 

Now, he thought, time to do some real magic! 

81.6 Alistair 

Kathryn was dead. 

The ritual hadn't worked, or maybe it had, maybe she had broken her neck in the blast, maybe ruptured and organ in the battle… it didn't matter. She was dead. He had always known it would come to this, that she would be taken from him as everyone else had been. 

He had done everything he could, done the unthinkable, sacrificed everything he was to keep her with him and it… it hadn't mattered. What he wanted, what he was willing to do and give, what he had lost, what had been taken from him, none of it mattered. 

It wasn't fair! To ask this of her. For all she had done and suffered, lost and sacrificed, given and struggled and then be forced to give her life too? How could this be right? 

In his mind he saw the long years before him, all those he would spend alone. He knew he could get through them, he would get through them for her, for himself and for Ferelden but… his heart and spirit were shattered… no, worse than that… they had been torn from him, ripped out leaving only the memory they had ever been. There was only a hollow aching emptiness, he knew no time would dull. He wished it had been him, it should have been him, he wanted it to have been him, but none of that seemed to matter either. 

What kind of joke was this? Not only to give them each other and then to require such a sacrifice but then to give them a glimmer of hope that they may have a future together, to put such a price on that hope and then to snatch it away anyway, make him betray all and have it be for nothing… it wasn't that he expected the world to be fair but he didn't expect it to be so cruel. 

He looked down at her body. He gently gathered her into his arms, resting her head against his shoulder. He stroked her hair and watched the trail of blood flow down her… wait… if she was bleeding… that meant… 

He put his hand around her neck, searching and then… there it was… faint but distinct, a heartbeat. She wasn't dead! The shock from the blast had stopped her breathing but not killed her. 

"Kathryn!" He yelled, as he grabbed her arms and held her in front of him. He took her head in his hands. "Kathryn!" He yelled again. "Kathryn, you have to breathe! Kathryn!" He slapped on her cheek, but no response. "Damn it, Kathryn! Breathe!" He slapped her again and then saw her back arch and then she took a short hard breath and then she started to cough. 

He touched her cheek as her eyes slowly opened. "I heard you calling." She said. 

81.7 Kathryn 

Kathryn was falling or maybe floating, sinking or drifting though the soft darkness, carried it seemed by the winds or was it the currents. It didn't matter. All was quiet, everything still and at peace. 

She heard something, a voice, something distant and far away. She didn't want to listen. She wanted to rest, to sleep… but the voice… it was… familiar… comforting… her name… someone was calling her name… no, not just someone… him... he was calling her. She wanted to go to him… he was the only thing she wanted more than the peace found in this darkness. She followed the call but it was everywhere and nowhere, distant but yet right there. She struggled against the darkness, against the forces pulling and pushing her along but it did her little good for she didn't know how to reach him. 

Then pain. Real, but distant. She followed it, followed the path that increased the sensation. As she got closer, she felt that she was being pulled back and then… 

She took a breath. He was there beside her. She felt him touch her cheek. She opened her eyes. 

Alistair smiled at her and then kissed her forehead. Kathryn looked around and none of it seemed familiar. She tried to remember but everything was confused. "What… what happened?" She asked him. 

"You… you did it. You killed it… the archdemon… it's over… the Blight… it's over!" He said in a rush. 

Kathryn couldn't understand what he was saying. It was over. The Blight. The archdemon was… dead. How could that be? 

She followed his eyes and saw the body of a high dragon, a greatsword through its head. Then it all came back to her in a flood of jumbled images and memories. 

She tried to stand but her body was weak, her balance off. Alistair helped to steady her. Once she had her bearings, she began to make her way up to the creature. She had to see it, touch it, prove to herself… that it was truly over. 

She walked up to the body of the dragon, staring intently at the beast that had been her enemy, her adversary, the being that had dominated her thoughts, that had, in truth, controlled her life for well over a year… and now it was dead. 

She thought that she should feel something but she didn't feel anything, not even relief. Maybe she was numb. Perhaps she was in shock. It was possible that she didn't truly believe it and was not allowing herself to feel anything in case it wasn't truly over. But somehow she didn't think so. 

She knelt beside the archdemon and almost tenderly touched its head. The only real emotion she felt was pity for this poor creature, driven to madness by pain and poison. It hadn't wanted this anymore than she had but they had been forced to battle, struggle, fight and die. And for what? 

All that had been accomplished was death and destruction, sorrow and insanity. No good had come from this, from this fight. The most that could be said was that they had survived… but so many others had not. She felt no triumph, only loss and emptiness. 

She stood and reached for Alistair's hand. She wanted to feel his hand in hers, needed a reminder of why it all had been worth it. But her hand touched only the empty air. She turned to see him standing several paces behind her. While the distance could be covered in a few steps, to her it seemed insurmountable. She had never felt more alone than she did at this moment. 

She should walk away, leave this creature behind, leave it and the fight, the battle and struggle behind her and move forward, but she couldn't. This fight had defined her. Without it, she wasn't sure who she was. Everything, her life and strength, her thoughts and energy had all been focused on this task that had been given her and with it over, there was nothing left. 

Then a thought… she could start anew! It was not an end but a glorious beginning, for all now lay before her. She wondered if she even had the strength or will to begin again. 

'Perhaps not now, but soon.' A voice inside her head said that sounded much like her father's. All that she had to do at this moment, was make the choice to begin. 

She stretched her hand to Alistair and then took a step forward and collapsed. 

81.8 Jowan 

Jowan's hand flared red as he concentrated on stopping the bleeding. Then he moved his other hand over as white light flowed from it into Roland's head, then as the red light slowly went out it was replaced with blue. Piece of cake, he thought as the sweat rolled down his neck. 

That had taken much out of him but there was still more to do. He downed a lyrim potion, healing himself and then he placed his hand on Roland's chest. The heart and lungs were also damaged and it was much worse than Irving had said. 

The problem with healing the heart and the lungs is that they are always in motion. They never stop. He could heal them in their moving state but it might not be enough, however… if he could stop them… the healing would be more effective. Well, actually stopping them was easy. The hard part was starting them again. 

He took out a couple more potions, just in case. He had to be ready and he had to be quick. His hands flared red as Roland's body jerked and then was still… really still. Jowan placed his hand over Roland as white and then blue light poured into Roland's chest. Jowan downed another potion. His vision slightly blurred but he didn't need to be able to see to do this. More white and blue light streamed into Roland. 

Jowan had done all he could. Now was the hard part. Red light again flared from his fingers. He placed his hand on Roland's head. He concentrated on the heart, the muscle, the beating, the pumping of blood. Then a beat… and… then another… and another… and another… 

Jowan was weakening but there was one last thing. The red light again flared. "Breathe!" he said as Roland took a deep breath. "Thank the Ma…" Jowan said before he passed out. 

81.9 Alistair 

After Jowan had recovered, he had examined Kathryn but could find nothing wrong with her, which worried both of them greatly. They knew they had to get both her and Roland, along with the rest of the wounded down from the rooftop. Which was tedious to say the least. He had sent word to Wynne to meet them outside the fort. 

As they stepped out into the city, Wynne appeared. She checked Roland and confirmed that Jowan had been able to stop the bleeding in his skull and heal his other major injuries. It only remained to be seen if he had any lasting damage. 

Then she turned to Kathryn. 

"What happened?" She asked. 

"She killed the archdemon and was thrown back in the blast. I… I got to her soon after. She wasn't breathing but I called to her and she woke up. She seemed fine and then she collapsed." He said. 

Wynne ran her hands over Kathryn, soft blue light flowing over her. Wynne put her hands down and turned to Alistair. 

"Other than a few minor injuries, she's fine." Wynne said confused. 

"But… if she's fine, why won't she wake up?" Alistair said in a near panic. 

"She's exhausted." Wynne said. "Perhaps she just needs rest." 

"All right, then I'll get her someplace safe, that she can rest." He said. 

"No." Wynne said. "We will get her someplace she can rest. You are needed elsewhere." 

Alistair looked at her confused. Wynne looked past his shoulder. 

He turned to see a dozen people who were waiting to speak to him, waiting for his direction. For a moment he was confused, why would they needs to talk to… oh right, he was the king. 

It occurred to him that the battle with the archdemon was the time for heroes, the stuff of legends but this, putting the shattered pieces back together, this… this was the time for kings. 

Before he would have been terrified of this, overwhelmed by the prospect of being in charge, of being responsible for all… but now… he wasn't. But it was more than that, for he suddenly realized to his utmost astonishment that at this moment, this was exactly where he wanted to be. 

"So," He said looking at the group. "What's the situation?" 

Chapter 82: Denerim 

82.1 Petra 

Petra thought that the battle with the darkspawn had been intense but it was nothing compared to the activity here in the hospital that had been set up inside the main gate. The wounded were being brought in, it seemed, a dozen at a time. 

Any mage that knew a healing spell was now attending to the injured. The rest were with the army clearing the darkspawn from the city or trying to get control of the fires that still burned in nearly every area. 

Wynne had been put in charge, organizing and directing, in addition to healing. There was another mage, a black-headed human man who looked very familiar although she couldn't quite place him. He was working the hardest cases, working what seemed near miracles, healing vicious injuries, saving limbs from amputation, ruptured organs… things she had no idea could be healed even with the help of a spirit. Many wondered how he could do such things. She wasn't sure she wanted to know and even less sure she cared. 

Petra looked up from tending to one of the wounded soldiers to see a giant bronze skinned man walking through the hospital carrying a mabari. It occurred to her that he must be one of the qunari. But what he was doing here and carrying a hound, of all things, she couldn't fathom. He seemed to be looking for something and then walked over to one of the few empty cots and placed the dog on it. 

Petra walked over. The giant turned to her. "Heal this dog." 

Petra really didn't want to argue with a giant, qunari or no, but she didn't have much choice. "We can't." She said. 

"What good is magic if it cannot heal a wounded animal?" He asked. 

"No, we can heal them but we don't heal animals, not even mabaris. I'm sorry." She said. "There are still people that require healing." 

"This dog attacked an ogre. He is as deserving of healing as any warrior here. Now, heal him!" The giant said. 

Petra had to admit he had a point. "But I… I don't know anything about healing a dog." She said. 

"This country reveres these hounds more than its people. Someone here must know about them. Find that person." He said. 

Petra backed away. She asked around the hospital to see if anyone there knew anything about marbaris. Soon she found one of the assistants to the kennel master. They returned to where the giant man was still watching over the dog. 

The solider quickly ran his hands over the animal's back. "Well, his back isn't broken, if it had… but it isn't. He has several broken bones, ribs, legs, and a concussion. Probably his internal organs are bruised. But he doesn't seem to be in pain so I don't think he is bleeding internally… wait… I think one of the ribs has punctured his lung." He took Petra's hand. "Here." 

Petra felt the area, healed the rib and what she could of the lung. 

"I believe that's all magic can do for him, but I think you got him here in time. It's going to take a lot of rest but if he makes it through the night, I think he will be all right. I can make up a potion we use to help our mabaris heal. Really just a double baked biscuit, broken up and dissolved in water but you'll have to feed it to him a drop at a time." The solider said. 

"I will do this." The giant said. 

The solider mixed up the potion and adjusted the cot so that the hound could breathe easier. The giant thanked him. 

As Petra went to check on the other human patients, she took a last look at the huge giant as he with the utmost care feed the dog the potion. 

82.2 Sigrun 

Sigrun sat on the end of the cot Zevran was on. He hadn't woken up yet and while Wynne had done all she could, she didn't know if he would. He had lost a lot of blood and if the supply had been interrupted to his brain or heart or lungs or… well, it could be bad… really, really bad. 

Sigrun wanted to pray but wasn't sure who too. She thought to the ancestors but hers had been casteless and probably couldn't help anyway, and that's if they would even listen to a prayer for an elf. Then she thought to pray to the Dalish gods. Zevran's mother had been Dalish but then again she had left her clan and he didn't consider himself Dalish. Besides she didn't know their names or which one it would be appropriate to pray to. Perhaps she could pray to the Maker but with her being a dwarf, she wasn't sure he'd listen. In fact, she wasn't exactly sure he answered prayers. So she just worried instead. 

As hour after hour passed, she drifted off. 

"I rather thought I'd wake up dead." She heard Zevran say. She looked up. His eyes were just barely open. He looked horrible but he was awake. "I should really stop thinking that, since I always seem to be wrong." He smiled weakly. 

"Or maybe you should keep thinking it, since you always seem to be wrong." Sigrun said. 

"Ah, yes. Excellent point." He said and smiled. "I assume we…" 

"…won, yes we did." Sigrun said. 

"That's good." He said as his eyes began to close. 

"Zevran," She said. 

"Hmmm…" He said. 

"If you ever do anything like that again, I'll…" She stopped as she was starting to cry. 

"Believe me, I never shall." He said. "So, see, no reason to cry." 

He reached his hand to her and she took it. She laid her head on his shoulder. Soon he was asleep. 

Sigrun closed her eyes and whispered "To whom it may concern: Thank you." 

82.3 Eamon 

Eamon was making his way back to the main gate. Nearly as soon as the battle was finished, he and the rest of the defenders of Denerim had been ordered by the king to get some rest. He had tried to protest but the truth of it was that he barely had the strength to crawl into bed. 

He had to admit he felt a hundred times better, whether it was the sleep or just knowing that the blight was over and the city safe or some combination, he didn't know and didn't care. 

"Brother!" Eamon stopped and turned to see Teagan hurrying towards him. "How are you?" He asked. 

"Much better. I just awoke and was heading to the main gate to find the king." Eamon said. 

Teagan smiled. "So, you don't know what has… oh." 

"What has what?" Eamon said concerned. "Has something happened?" 

"Oh, no." Teagan said seemingly even more amused. 

"Teagan, what is it?" Eamon said his concern growing into true worry. 

"Oh, nothing… well, Alistair… uh… I mean, the king." Teagan said with a smile. 

"What? Why? Teagan, what has he done?" Eamon said. 

"Everything!" Teagan said with a laugh and shook his head. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. He's set up a hospital for the wounded, got teams fighting the fires and looking for survivors. He's signaled the evacuation boats, got food being brought in and prepared, more teams working on clearing the darkspawn and cleaning their taint from the city. He's on top of everything. It is like Calenhad reborn, in truth, I doubt Calenhad himself could do better." He smiled and then looked thoughtful. "I can hardly believe he is the same person as when I first met him. You would think he had been training for this moment his entire life." 

They continued on to the main gate. Alistair was there, looking over a map of the city and hearing a report on the progress of the fire-fighting teams. He was in complete control and looked every bit the ruler of a country but he was exhausted and Eamon could tell in a lot of pain. He needed rest. 

Alistair looked up as Eamon approached. "Oh, good you're here. We need to get ready for the evacuation boats to arrive. Many won't be able to get back to their homes and many have been damaged or destroyed. We'll need to set up shelters. We can start with the Chantry but I don't think that will be enough." 

"Your Highness, you need to get some rest." Eamon said. "Have you even slept since the battle?" 

Alistair shook his head. "Not until the boats get back. I want to make sure the people are safe, then… well, then once the fires are out, I will…" 

"If I may, Your Highness, you will not be of any use to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion." Eamon said. "Please, get some rest. I can handle it. You did name me regent after all." 

Alistair looked at him, as thought he had completely forgotten that point. Then he looked down to the ground, and rubbed his forehead. 

Eamon watched as the exhaustion that Alistair had so far kept at bay by sheer will suddenly catch up to him. His head dropped as he began to sway. "I think… I will… lay down… for a while… if… that's…" 

Eamon stepped forward just as Alistair started to fall, catching him under the arm and keeping him on his feet. "Teagan, get a stretcher and have a cot prepared for him." Teagan nodded and hurried off. 

Eamon gently put his hand on the back of Alistair's neck, bringing his head down to rest on Eamon's shoulder, steadying him. "There. That's a good lad. You just rest and everything will be all right." Eamon said softly. 

82.4 Alistair 

Alistair had felt the strength run out of his body, felt himself falling, then stopped from falling. He started to drift in and out of consciousness. 

Then his mind filled with images and sensations jumbled together: a dark room, the crackle of the fire, a bitter taste in his mouth, the sound of Eamon's voice, a hand rubbing the back of his neck and a deep chill that went through him. Then there was another feeling. Something that then he had no way to describe but now he could name, it was the feeling of being safe. 

Then as the darkness overtook him, the images and sensations sorted into a long forgotten memory… 

Alistair stared into the fire, drops of sweat rolled down his neck and yet had never been so cold. It wasn't even the dry cold of a hard freeze but the damp chill of a late snow. The kind that gets into everything, the kind that no fire or blanket or cloak can warm. That kind of cold cuts through you. He pulled the many blankets around him but they didn't stop him shivering. 

It hurt to breathe, if he tried to talk he would have a coughing fit that would nearly strangle him. His head hurt and whole body ached. Some of the other servants had been sick, complained of a headache and cough but it wasn't like this. He had been feeling bad for a couple of days, tired and groggy, but then two days ago he woke up and didn't have the strength to get breakfast. 

The Arl had told some of the others to make up a bed for him. He hadn't ever slept in a bed before, not a real bed with posts and a headboard. Mostly he slept on a pallet in the kitchen or in the barn with the hounds. 

Today, a woman he had never seen before had come. She was nice. She felt his head, her hands were cool and soft. She talked to him for a while, then she gave him this terrible tasting potion to drink. Now, she was talking to the Arl outside the room. He tried to hear but only caught a few words. 

"How…" 

"…ill… young… serious…" 

"…will…" 

"… not… magic… chances… not… 

"Oh…" 

"…more… do… sorry…" 

Alistair listened as the women walked away. Then the Arl opened the door and stepped into the room. Alistair tried to talk but immediately started coughing. 

"No, no." The Arl said. "Don't try to talk." 

Alistair nodded. 

The Arl sat down on the bed. "Here, let's prop you up a bit." He helped Alistair to sit up, wrapping the covers tighter around him. "There is that better?" 

Alistair nodded again. 

The Arl picked up the large mug that contained the potion. "The healer said you must drink all of this." 

Alistair stuck out his tongue and made a face. 

Eamon chuckled. "I know such things do not taste good, but here I will help you." The Arl then put the mug in his small hands and helped him lift it and take several sips. 

"There. That's a good lad." The Arl said as he set the mug down. He put his arm around Alistair as Alistair leaned up against him. "You just rest and everything will be all right." The Arl said. 

Several moments passed, as the Arl rubbed the back of Alistair's neck. The headache seemed better. 

"I know." Eamon said. "I'll tell you a story, would you like that?" 

Alistair nodded. 

"Let's see. How about I tell you the story of Calenhad. Do you know who that is?" Eamon said. 

Alistair shook his head. 

"Well, Calenhad was a very important person and had all kinds of adventures. He was called the silver knight and was the first king of Ferelden but he started out as a little boy, just like you." Alistair smiled. "Now, his father was a merchant in the town of…" 

82.5 Alistair 

Alistair woke to find that dawn had come. He started to get up but nearly every part of his body hurt, but not quite as much as it had before which was a good sign. With slow and deliberate action he got out of the cot. He walked out into the main part of the hospital. 

Alistair looked over the cots till he recognized one. He sat down next to Roland. He had bandages on nearly every part of him. 

"Feeling better?" He heard Jowan say from behind him. 

"Yes, I do, but you look terrible." He said. 

Jowan smiled. "Yes, been working since the battle but with all the critical stuff taken care of I'm going to get some rest myself." 

"Yes, I had heard rumors of a 'miracle worker' mage that could heal the most grievous injuries, saved many lives of those others had said were beyond help, prevented many from losing arms and legs. Rather wondrous… or at least that what I heard." Alistair said with a smile. 

Jowan smiled. "Thanks to you." 

Alistair looked confused. "I don't know what you're…" 

"Yes, you do." Jowan said. "I finally figured it out. On the rooftop, I reversed the spell for stealing the lifeforce from others, but I had no way to stop it once it started. Between the three of you, I should have died but I didn't. I figured that the only way that would happen was if the spell was interrupted and there was only one person on that rooftop who could interrupt a mage's spell. At least without touching them, and that was you. You saved my life." 

"I… I… well, I…. you know, really I had just been waiting for a chance to smite you for months… so… um…" Alistair stopped and smiled. "Not very convincing, am I?" 

"No. Especially since I only got enough of the smite to stop the spell." Jowan said. "Why?" 

"Because you were willing to give your life to help stop the Blight." He said. "And because you have tried to make up for what you've done. You deserved better than to die on that rooftop, and the only way anyone gets what they deserve in this world is because someone makes it so." 

Jowan smiled. 

Alistair looked over to Roland. "How is he?" 

"I don't know." Jowan said concerned. "I was able to stop the bleeding inside his skull but if there is damage… I did the best I could." 

"That's all anyone can ask." Alistair said. "Now get some rest. King's order." 

"Yes, Your Highness." Jowan said with a slight smile as he gave an exaggerated bow and backed away. 

Alistair sat with Roland for several minutes, then Roland's eyes began to move and then with a sigh, he slowly opened them. He looked at Alistair for a moment or two, his expression blank, then he whispered. "Tell me you didn't miss it." 

Alistair smiled. "I didn't." 

"Is that true?" Roland asked. 

"Would I be here if it wasn't?" Alistair said. 

"Good point." Roland said. 

"Although, Kathryn insisted on taking the last blow. You know how she is, has to have the last word and all." Alistair said. 

Roland smiled and then looked grave. "Am I going to be all right?" 

"I think so. But I doubt you'll be fighting any dragons anytime soon." Alistair said. 

"Believe me, that one will be enough for me for a long while." Roland said. 

"Why didn't you tell me what you were going to do?" Alistair asked. 

"Because you wouldn't have let me." Roland said. "And if the situation was reversed, you'd have done the same." 

Alistair considered and then took something out of his pocket. "Here I have something for you." He placed a small silver amulet which seemed to contain a reddish black liquid into Roland's hand. 

Roland looked at it. "What is it?" 

"It is the amulet given to all Grey Wardens when they pass their joining." Alistair said. "You deserve it as much if not more than anyone else." 

Roland clutched it tightly in his hand. 

"Now, you get some rest." Alistair stood and started to walk away 

"Alistair," Roland called after him. 

"Yes?" Alistair said as he turned back. 

Roland started to say something and then stopped. "You make the best lamb and pea stew I have ever tasted." 

Alistair laughed and shaking his head turned and walked away. 

82.6 Jowan 

Jowan sat down on one of the benches. He was exhausted and was making his way to one of the cots to rest, when he had gotten dizzy. He had probably forgotten to eat, but didn't remember. He should get food first, then rest, but he was nearly too tired to make the trip. 

He looked up as someone sat next to him. It was Irving. He didn't look at him. They sat in silence for several moments. Jowan had nearly fallen asleep when Irving finally spoke. 

"I gave up on you." Irving said. 

"I don't understand." Jowan said. 

"Many apprentices come through the doors of the circle. Some are strong, in will and mind. It is obvious they will be fine mages. Some you are not so sure of and you try your best to foster their talent and will and some you know almost immediately that while they have a mage's talent, they are not true mages. They are little more than fodder for demons and of the worst kind, well meaning but weak. You try not to judge too quickly but after so long you know the signs." 

He looked down. "I thought you were too weak to be a true mage. I delayed your Harrowing, hoping that I was wrong but I saw so little improvement and once I found that you had been practicing blood magic, it seemed all my worst fears had been realized." 

Irving sighed. "But it seems I was wrong about you. You were not weak you had simply not found your calling as a mage. I never would have believed you capable of what you have done today. Your skills as a healer are impressive by any standard and the spells you have developed on your own… it is truly astonishing." 

"I see now that the fault was mine. I saw you as weak and did not give you a chance to prove otherwise. I did not grant you the opportunities I did to others because I was sure you would fail. For what it is worth, I want to apologize to you. Perhaps if I had not so misjudged you, you would not have turned to forbidden arts." Irving said. "Unfortunately, there is not much I can do to help you but know, that I shall do what I can." 

Without waiting for a replay, Irving stood and walked away. 

Jowan sat stunned staring at the ground ahead of him. Soon he saw someone walk in front of him and stop. With effort he looked up, "Lily!" He nearly shouted. 

"Hello, Jowan." Lily said as she sat down beside him. 

"What are you doing here? I thought they sent you to… oh Lily… I am so glad that you're… wait are you hiding from the templars? How did you get away? And here I am shouting your name to the skys." Jowan said in a rush. 

"It's alright." She said with a smile. "I'm not hiding. And I didn't escape. They did send me to Anonar. But after a couple months they determined that I'd had no contact with demons nor had been corrupted by blood magic. They believed that I was truly repentant and not a threat. So I want sent to Denerim to work as a lay sister in the Chantry." 

"Oh, thank the Maker! I am so sorry, you have no idea how much I… I… I never wanted to hurt you, Lily. You must believe me. I was so stupid. I was so afraid of being made tranquil and losing everything. I didn't think I could pass the Harrowing without… something. I had never been even an average mage and… oh, Lily, I just hope you can forgive me." He said. 

"Jowan, I do forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago." She said. "It was just when I found out you that you were… and that you had lied to me, I was stunned and hurt. I couldn't help think all of it had been a lie, that you had only used me to escape the circle." 

"No, no Lily. All I ever wanted was to be with you. I love you, Lily. I know that can't mean much to you now, but I have always loved you." Jowan said. 

Lily smiled and looked down "I heard about what you've done here." 

"I was given a chance to try and make up for what I have done, and I've done my best not to waste it." He said. "Lily, please, I want to…" 

"Jowan, so much has happened. We have both changed so much." She said. 

"I know. I'm not asking anything, Lily. Except that you give me a chance to tell you everything. You deserve the truth, all of it. Even if you hate me for it, at least you'll know." He said. 

"I don't hate you, Jowan. I never hated you. I don't think I can." She said. A moment passed. 

"You know, I was going to get some food…" He said. 

"Funny that." Lily said. "So was I." They stood and started towards the food tents. Then Jowan stopped. 

"Are you okay?" She asked. 

"Just dizzy." He said. 

"Here." Lily said as she took his arm. Then with her support, they continued on together. 

82.7 Kathryn 

Kathryn had woken up just before dawn. She was never an early riser and could count the number of sunrises she had seen during her life on her fingers and toes, but today she wanted to see the sun rise. Perhaps to make sure it would. That somehow the world would go on despite all that had happened. 

She climbed to the top of one of the ramparts and watched the sun emerge from the sea. Something about it, seemed to fill a small part of the emptiness inside. It would take time for her to truly recover, time and many more sunrises, and flower buds, and newborn puppies and full moons on snow and waterfalls and all the things that restore one's soul but this was a start. 

She walked back through the hospital and saw Alistair. It was easy enough to circle around him, for he seemed intent on searching through all the cots. 

"Looking for someone?" She said as she stepped behind him. 

He stopped and turned to her. "Well, yes, actually. A brunette human, fairly good looking, a liar and thief, far too smart for her own good, sarcastic, stubborn, full of herself, thinks she's always right and writes this really horrible poetry." 

"After hearing that I have to wonder why you are looking for her at all." She said. 

"Come to think of it, I'm wondering that myself… oh right, now I remember she has a nearly perfect hindquarters." He said with a smile. "I mean who needs personality or character when you have those kind of… well… assets." 

"Well, I will be sure to keep an eye out." She said. 

"Thank you, although… come to think of it… you're not too bad looking and I've already found you." He said. "Have I mentioned that I'm the King of Ferelden?" 

"Ah no, you didn't mention that but I was also looking for someone, blond male human, weak willed, whiny and complains all the time, you think he'd be easy to spot by the terrible jokes he makes, he isn't even very bright, and the best that can be said of how he looks is that… well, his features are all in the right place." 

"And you are looking for his example of the best and brightest of humanity, why exactly?" He said. 

"I forgot to mention he has a really large… hands." She said with a smile. "But I might take you instead, would save me the effort of looking for him." 

He smiled. "Well, with that settled." She stepped to him as he put his arms around her. She held on tight, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, and listening to his heart beat as he stroked her hair and as the hole that seemed to cut through her was filled a bit more. 

"Your Highness!" A voice called out. They both turned towards it and saw a man limping towards them. "You remember me?" The man said to Alistair. 

"Of course," Alistair said. "You asked about the darkspawn… you had family, mum and little brother and you and your girl from the next village are going to get married soon." 

"Yes, Your Highness, that's me." The man said with a laugh. 

"I am glad to see you made it though." Alistair said. 

"Thank you, ser and glad to see you did too." The man nodded to Kathryn. "I take it this is your girl. My lady." The man said with a bow. 

Kathryn watched as Alistair cringed. "I wouldn't say…" 

"I would." Kathryn said. "Perhaps not officially but, it's true just the same. Just as you are my boy, yes?" 

Alistair smiled. "Most defiantly." 

The man smiled. "I don't mean to keep you, but I just… I wanted to say… you know, from all of us, Maker bless the both of you." 

"Thank you." Kathryn said. 

The man bowed and walked off. 

Perhaps soon would be sooner than she thought. 

Chapter 83: Epilogue 

83.1 Mhairi 

Mhairi stopped in front of the small cottage. This had to be the place. She went over the speech in her head. She wanted to do everything properly. While some might see this as an errand beneath that of a knight of the Ferelden army, it was a favor to one who had fought in the battle for Denerim, one who had saved this country from the Blight, not to mention a personal friend of the king and Warden-Commander. 

After hearing the truth about the wardens and seeing what they had accomplished in stopping the civil war and ending the blight, she had asked to join their ranks. Before discharging her from the army, however the king had asked she perform this one small task and she intended to do so to the best of her ability. 

She had heard rumors that the Warden-Commander was not allowing new recruits to take the joining, that only those who were exposed to the tainted blood of the darkspawn were allowed. However the volunteers were being organized into teams to fight alongside the wardens that were arriving from all over Thedas. The Warden-Commander had hinted at something she wished to discuss with Mhairi when she got back. She hoped that… but pushed those thoughts out of her mind and focused on the task at hand. 

Mhairi knocked on the door. "Coming." came a woman's voice from inside. A few moments passed then a woman opened the door. She was wearing a work dress and loose fitting apron. She looked several years older than Mhairi but upon further inspection, Mhairi realized that looks may be deceiving. The lines on the woman's face seemed to be more from ill-health and work than age. It was clear the woman had had a hard time of it but there was also a kindness and grace about her. Despite all, it was a lovely face. 

"Can I help you?" The woman said. 

"I am looking for Helena, the widow of Ser Jory, knight of Redcliffe, are you she?" Mhairi said. 

"I am." Helena said. 

"I am Mhairi, a knight in the royal army." She began. "I have been sent by the king…" 

"He's dead, isn't he?" Helena said. 

"Um… The king? The king isn't dead." Mhairi said. 

"No, Roland… Ser Gilmore, that's why you're here, isn't it? You're here to tell me that he's dead. That's the only reason they send messengers…" She covered her mouth with her hand and closing her eyes. "I should have known… I did know… I knew that the Maker would not forgive such… I…" She looked at Mhairi. "Was it in the battle? I know he would have wanted… all knights if they are to die, wish to die on the battlefield, don't they?" 

"Yes. No, I mean, they do wish to… but he didn't. I mean… die. He didn't die. He isn't dead." Mhairi said. 

"But I don't understand." Helena said. 

"Ser Gilmore was injured in the battle, and the healer would not allow him to take this journey, so I was sent by the king to collect you, the boy and your things and bring you to Denerim to join him… uh, Ser Gilmore, not the king, of course." Mhairi said. 

"He is alive and well." Helena asked unsure if she should really believe it. 

"He is alive and will soon be well, yes." Mhairi said and couldn't help but smile. 

Helena put her hands over her face. "Oh dear blessed Andraste." She whispered. 

Mhairi wasn't sure if Helena was crying or laughing, probably both. 

Within a few moments, Helena had recovered herself. "I am sorry." 

"We can leave as soon as you are packed." Mhairi said. "The signs indicate good weather. So the journey to Denrim should take..." 

Helena removed her apron, Mhairi could see that it hadn't been that the apron was loose but it had been draped over her stomach. She was clearly with child. This was… unexpected… but Mhairi recovered her bearings quickly. If life in the army had taught her anything, it was how to adapt to changing circumstances. 

"…a bit longer than I originally thought but we will do our best to accommodate you and make it to Denerim as soon as possible." She said. 

"Thank you." Helena said. 

83.2 Kathryn 

Kathryn walked out into the royal garden. Even with all that was going on she made time to go into the garden each day. Being here, seeing the life and beauty amid all the death and destruction, somehow made things a bit easier. 

As she walked through the rose garden she saw Roland sitting on one of the benches, holding in his lap the cane he was using to walk. She walked over to him. 

"Hello." She said. 

He looked up. "Hello." He said with a smile. She sat down next to him. "How are you? I have barely seen you since the battle." 

"Yes, I have been very busy. You would think that with the Blight over, I would have nothing to do but that is not the case." She said. 

"Truly." Roland said curious. 

"Indeed." She said. "After a Blight there is always years of fighting before the darkspawn are completely driven back and the land reclaimed. Here the situation is even more extreme since the Blight was ended so quickly. Thousands upon thousands of darkspawn are still here in Ferelden and without an archdemon to direct them nor an easy route back into the deep roads, they will remain here unless driven out or killed. We have reports of bands of darkspawn led by emissaries and alphas attacking refugees and travelers, villages and homesteads from the Frostbacks to Gwaren." 

"Have you gotten any assistance from the other wardens?" He asked. 

"Yes, thank the Maker. I sent out word that all are welcome who wish to aid in the fight, and nearly every day more wardens arrive from all over Thedas. Some are disappointed to hear that the blight is over but when they see how much fighting there is left to do, all have been eager to do all they can to help." She said. 

"So, are you accepting those who wish to be wardens?" He asked. 

"No." She said and sighed. "We need all those who can and are willing to fight to do so and with the wardens we have… I believe it is enough. The joining is only given those who become exposed to the taint. Some have and most have survived but not all. I will not risk their lives when they are so desperately needed." 

"That's a good line." He said. "And you say it with such conviction, I almost believe you." 

Kathryn smiled. "I thought it was quite good myself. However, the First Warden was not as impressed with it nor with me… oh what was it… something about… me 'arrogantly disrespecting rituals and practices that have been in place for centuries…' I don't quite remember. By this point I had pretty much stopped listening to the representative." 

"What did you say to them?" He said. 

"Well, it would be completely unladylike for me to repeat it. But the general idea was that once they have killed an archdemon then they get to tell me what to do." She said with a smile. "But enough of that, how are you?" 

Roland looked down. "Better, but… I… " 

"But… what? What is it?" She asked. 

Roland sighed. "Wynne says that in time much of my strength and endurance will return and soon I will no longer need this cane nor be limited in anything I wish to do but… I will never be all that I was. I fear that my days in service as a knight are over." 

"Good." Kathryn said. "It seems a just reward for you to be forced to retire to the country." 

"It pains me to leave when so much is left undone." He said. 

"It should not. You have done more than your fair share. You could not have served this country, nor me any better if you were to serve a hundred years." Kathryn said. "Without you, I would not be here, nor would the Blight be over, do not doubt it." 

"Thank you." Roland said. "And while I am thanking you, I do appreciate you sending an escort to bring Helena here." 

"Do not thank me, that was the king's idea. It was mentioned that you may recover faster if she were present." She said. 

"I do wonder by whom?" He said. 

"Probably the healer." She said with a smile. 

"Yes, I will feel better when she is here. They should have already arrived. I know I should not worry but…" He said. 

"I am sure it is the weather and they will be here soon." She said and then smiled. "Yes, I have no doubt that soon you shall see her lovely face and flaxen hair." 

Roland smiled and then looked confused. "When did I tell you she had flaxen hair?" 

"You didn't, but I wanted to check before saying anything. That wouldn't be her there, would it?" Kathryn said as she nodded towards the garden entrance. 

"Helena!" Roland said as he rose as quickly as his injuries would allow. 

Kathryn discreetly moved out of hearing range and allowed them privacy for their reunion. Then she watched as Helena pulled back her cloak to reveal her full belly. 

Alistair walked up beside her. "Hello, my dear. I take it that is…" 

"Yes, it is." She said. 

"Hmmm… she looks very…" He said. 

"Yes, she does." She said. 

"But they aren't…" He said. 

"No, they aren't." She said. 

"That could be…" He said. 

"Yes, it could." She said. 

"Well, then I guess we will have to fix it." He said. 

"Yes, we will." She said. "And the sooner the better." She said as she indicated that Eamon was walking towards them. 

As they approached them, Alistair said. "You know I still can't figure out how the whole introduction order thing works. Really too much formality for my taste, especially since we already know who you are and you already know who we are. However, since I am the king, let me be the first to congratulate both of you on your marriage and it seems your child." 

"Yes, we know it was to be a surprise and that Roland was to wait to tell everyone till you both could share in the announcement but he told us all about how the two of you were married before he left Highever to rejoin us." Kathryn said. "And we couldn't be happier for the both of you." 

Eamon considered. "Yes, it is wonderful that anyone can find some happiness in such times, but I do not recall seeing the paperwork. All marriage of nobility must be recorded, of course." 

"No surprise there, considering Howe was running things." Kathryn said. "He was much more interested in stealing from Highever and the royal treasury than actually ruling the area. I doubt much has been done." 

"Oh, and I bet you didn't even tell the priestess who performed the ceremony that you were the son of a bann." Alistair said. 

"Well, that is easily fixed." Kathryn said. "All that is needed is the testimony of two witness in good standing who either witnessed it or can avow that he told us at the time it happened." 

"And really can't get much more 'in good standing' than the king and qu… and... um... a teyrna, can you?" Alistair said. 

"Ah, yes…" Eamon said with a small smile. "…that would more than suffice. Congratulations to you both." 

"Thank you." Roland said with a relieved smile. 

"Yes, you are both very kind." Helena said. "I see that Roland did not exaggerate when he spoke of the generosity of his friends." 

"It is the least we can do." Kathryn said. "Now, I know you two have much to catch up on. We will talk more at dinner." 

Kathryn took Alistair's arm as they walked away. After several steps Alistair stopped and looked back at them. His expression was unreadable but full of emotion. 

Finally Kathryn said. "Alistair, is something…" 

"I need to get back… important meeting. I'll see you at dinner." And he quickly left the garden. 

83.3 Zevran 

Zevran knocked on door of the king's study. He heard Alistair say "Come in." and then carefully opened the massive door and stepped inside. 

Cailan hadn't used the study, leaving most of the running of the country to Anora but Alistair had ordered the room made usable. Zevran looked around. He fully approved of it. It was a large, warm, and comfortable room but it had an air of power and luxury about it. It was the room of a king, a friendly, generous king but a king nonetheless. 

In the middle, was a large mahogany desk, nearly covered with reports, papers and writing utensils. In front were several leather chairs, bookshelves lined the far walls, while on the near ones were maps of Ferelden, Denerim and Thedas. A portrait of Calenhad hung over the large fireplace. At least Zevran, assumed it was Calenhad. It was at the very least, some ancestor of Alistair's, given the nose. 

Alistair looked up from reading a letter as he entered. "Zevran! Come in. Here, that chair there is the most comfortable." 

Zevran sat down and had to agree it was a very comfortable chair and he noted with pleasure that his feet reached the floor while sitting in it, barely but they did. Chairs are made to fit humans, elves or dwarfs but there is a size between the human and elf size, not perfect for either but usable by both. He noted with approval that this chair and at least one other of the visitor chairs were of this size. "I received your message. I figured it must be important if you wanted to speak privately." Zevran said. 

"Yes, it is." Alistair said as he sat back. Then he took out a bottle of one of the finest Antivan brandies from a drawer and set it on the desk, followed by two glasses. 

"Have you given any further thought for what you intend to do with yourself, now that the Blight is over?" Alistair asked as he opened the bottle and poured the drinks. "I know Sigrun is helping the wardens, but that doesn't seem to be where your interest or even talents really lie." 

"True. I had considered it but as you say not the best use of my particular skills." Zevran said. 

"And while you can go anywhere, you may for various reasons want to stay in Ferelden, close to Denerim, even." Alistair said. 

"Yes, there are good reasons for me to stay… but I would guess that this is not mere friendly curiosity that prompts these questions or you would not have called me here. Is that so?" Zevran said. 

"It is." Alistair said as he set one of the drinks in front of Zevran. "I'd like to offer you a job." 

"Indeed." Zevran said. "Working for the crown, is it? Some official position in court? Hmmm… in what capacity? I wonder. And more importantly do I get some official and important sounding title?" 

"Well, the one you'd be best qualified for is 'Court Jester', but that's not exactly what I had in mind." Alistair said. 

"Ah, now I am even more intrigued." Zevran said as he picked up the drink. 

"I was thinking more an unofficial position working for me, personally, as it were, in your well… professional capacity." Alistair said. 

"I see." Zevran said. "And what would I receive for the performance of such on your behalf?" 

Alistair smiled and picked up the glass. "What do you want?" 

Zevran took a drink and considered. "One hundred gold a month plus all expenses, a room for my personal use in the royal wing complete with a goosedown bed, the title of 'Royal Inspector of Luxuries and Finery', the latest fashions from Orlais as would be befitting one holding such a title and a new pair of imported Antivan leather boots each month." 

Alistair took a drink and then set down the glass. "Twenty gold a month plus necessary expenses, the room with the bed, the title, the royal seamstress makes all your clothing to your specifications, of course, and imported Antivan boots twice a year." 

Zevran thought for a moment. "Throw in access to your supply of brandy and we have a deal." 

Alistair smiled. "Done." He picked up two folded pieces of paper and handed them to Zevran. "Here are your first two jobs." 

Zevran read both of them and then tossed them into the fire. Alistair continued. "I don't want any hint of foul play on either. The one is a kindness, unfortunate but necessary and the other… well, let's call it justice. So, use your imagination." 

83.4 Alistair 

It was late evening, when there was a knock on the door to the study. "Come in." Alistair called out. He set down the report he was reading and looked up to see Eamon step inside. 

"Ah, Eamon, good you are here. I have something I need to discuss with you." Alistair said as he took out the brandy from the drawer. "Please have a seat. Brandy?" 

"Yes, thank you." Eamon said. He watched as Alistair poured the drinks. "There is something I wish to discuss with you too." 

"Oh. What about?" Alistair said as he took a drink. 

"Well, I… I feel it is my duty to mention the completely impropriety of you and Kathryn sharing the royal apartments." Eamon said. 

"Oh, for a moment I thought it was something important." Alistair said with a smile. 

"Alistair, the image you present to the world, your reputation is important." Eamon said. 

"Eamon, I'm not going to sneak around my own home pretending I'm not doing something I am and that everyone assumes I am doing whether I am or not." Alistair said. 

"But you have to see the inappropriateness of it." Eamon said. 

"No, I don't. I fail to see how it is inappropriate for me to openly share quarters with a woman who I love and am devoted to, but acceptable for a king to have separate quarters from his wife and share those quarters with all sorts of women as long as he is discrete about it." Alistair said. 

Eamon sighed. "How did you know?" 

"I didn't, I guessed, but I know if I was married to Anora I'd be laying with every whore from here to Antiva." Alistair said. "But I'm not, thank the Maker, I'm with Kathryn and I don't care who knows it." 

"Alistair..." 

"Eamon!" Alistair said in what was quickly being know about the castle as Alistair's 'king' voice. "She should be dead." 

"I know that you both have risked your life..." Eamon started. 

"No, that's not what I mean." Alistair said. "The warden that kills the archdemon dies, Eamon. That's why wardens are needed to stop a blight. Anyone else does it... it continues on." 

"I... I didn't know." Eamon said. 

"She should be dead and she isn't. But I don't know... something could..." Alistair looked away and then back to Eamon. "I am not wasting one night, one hour away from her I don't have to because... because I don't know how many I have left." 

Eamon sighed and then nodded. "Point taken, Your Highness." He took a drink. "If I may, have the two of you talked of the future?" 

Alistair nodded. "Yes, we have. I want to marry her and I… I hope she also wants that, but I want her to be sure." He took a drink. "So, how's this... I promise that the unacceptable situation will not persist much longer… one way or the other." 

"Fair enough." Eamon said and then raised his glass. "But I hope it is a favorable resolution. I can think of no one better to help you rule this land." 

"Neither can I." Alistair said. 

"Well, with that out of the way, what did you wish to discuss?" Eamon said. 

"Ah, yes, well... with the Blight over, it would seem I have little need of a regent." Alistair said. 

"Besides you being absent from the city, you had little need of one before, it seems." Eamon said. "So you are asking for my resignation?" 

"Yes." Alistair said. 

"Given. I will write up an official one today." Eamon said. 

"Thank you." Alistair said. "But you know, even if Kathryn does become queen with her being Warden-Commander and Teryna, there will be many occasions in which she will not be available, you know, to help." 

"Yes, that is true." Eamon said. 

"And there is the position of Chancellor that is currently unoccupied." Alistair said. "I figure that it would be beneficial to have someone fill that role, who has experiences of Ferelden politics and such, don't you think?" 

"Yes, I can see the benefit of that." Eamon said. 

"Good, then it is settled." Alistair said. "As soon as you give me the resignation, you may assume the duties of Chancellor of Ferelden, starting by having someone write that up all official." 

"Wait!" Eamon said with a smile. "I do not recall accepting such a position." 

"Well, that's good because I don't recall asking." Alistair said with a bigger smile. "Don't want to give you a chance to say no." 

Eamon laughed. "And to think at one time I worried that you might not make a very good king." 

"Still may not, it is early yet." Alistair said and poured them another drink. "Just give me a chance." 

83.5 Coronation 

The coronation was over. Kathryn walked over to where Alistair was standing in the front of the great hall. 

"I can't believe how good you are at these things." She said to him. 

"Really? What is so difficult? I mean, I get crowned king, which I already am and then talk about you. A piece of cake." He said. 

Kathryn smiled. "Oh, you asked me to remind you to do something after the coronation was over." 

"Right." Alistair said and then took a deep breath. "I need to talk to you about something, something very important. I wanted to earlier but with so much going on and us both being so busy... well, now is as good a time as any, I suppose." 

Alistair pulled the silverite ring from his pocket. "I know I asked you to… and I know you said… but really I shouldn't have. I see that now. We were wrapped up in fighting the Blight and we didn't even know if we'd have a future, much less what it might be." He sighed. "And I just figured if you wanted it, you'd have asked for it back. And you haven't." 

Kathryn's eyes got wide. "Oh, I…" 

"It's all right, really. I understand. I didn't think it right to hold you to that decision when now you can do whatever you want. Then, of course, you have the responsibilities of Warden-Commander, it's really not fair to ask you to be queen too. And I really do need someone to help me rule the country, a partner, as it were, someone who can be queen, full time, so I… well… I asked someone else." He said. "I got her another ring, though, I thought it inappropriate to give her this one." 

"You… you… what?" Kathryn said as her face got several shades paler. 

"I… I just didn't want you to find out when we announced it here at the coronation." He said. 

"Oh… I… I see." Kathryn said, a look of cold shock crossing her face. "Congratulations." She whispered. 

Alistair smiled and shook his head. "Congratulations? Really? I figured by now you'd be threatening me with bodily harm." 

"Too many witnesses." Kathryn said breathless. "You're joking?" 

"Of course I am." He said with an amused smile and then looked serious. "Do you really think after… everything, I'd want anyone but you?" 

"I'd hope not, but it would just figure…" She took a couple relieved breaths. "Oh, you will pay for that!" She said with a smile. 

"It was worth it." He said. "But I was serious about one thing, I shouldn't have asked you then and I won't hold you to it either. I want you to be sure and now that we know what now is... well, you can make that decision. Because as it stands, you can do whatever you want, go wherever you want, but I can't follow you, not anymore. I have a duty… a responsibility of my own to Ferelden and that has to come first." 

"I still want what I have always wanted which is for us to be together, always. I want to be your husband and for you to be my wife. But that means me being king and you being… queen and if you don't want that, I understand." 

"Just know, that if you ever change your mind, I'll be here, for there will never be anyone else, not for me, not ever." Alistair said. "So, that's it, that's what I had to say." 

"I see." She said as the color returning to her face. "But you know you rather forgot the part where you ask me… again." 

Alistair smiled. "Actually, I didn't. I was just waiting for you to mention it, because if you did that probably means you're going to say yes. Save me from looking foolish in front of all these people." 

Kathryn smiled. "Well, I guess there is only one way to find out." 

Alistair smiled and went down to a knee as the great hall fell silent. "So, Kathryn, my love, will you marry me?" 

Kathryn smiled. "Yes, of course, I will." 

83.6 Vaughn 

"What is this?" Vaughn took the bottle of Orleasian red wine and threw it against the wall. The serving girl had to duck to avoid being struck. "I said I wanted the Antivan red!" 

"But ser, there isn't any in the wine cellar!" The girl said in tears. 

"Do not lie to me!" He said as he struck the girl across the face. She fell to the floor. "I know what is in the cellar! Lazy whore! You didn't look. I will get it myself." Vaughn stormed out of the room. 

Vaughn lit the lantern and made his way down the stairs. It was fairly large befitting an Arl of Denerim. As his reached the bottom he felt something run across his foot. Mice, he thought. No matter. 

He went to where the Antivan reds were kept but there weren't any. Some had recently been delivered and he knew that he hadn't drank it all. So, unless one of the servants had taken it, in which case they would all pay very dearly for that, someone had put it in the wrong place. He went through each rack, shelf and bottle. Finally in the back of the cellar in the last row of shelves, was a bottle of Antivan red wine. 

"Stupid girl!" He said. He reached for the bottle but as soon as he touched it, it shattered. Glass and wine went everywhere. Shards of glass sliced into his hands, neck, chest and face. The wine burned in the dozen or so cuts. "Damn it!" He shouted, his voice echoing in the room. He was now covered in wine and blood. 

He was only glad that he hadn't dropped the lantern, for it was the only source of light in the room. If it went out he would be in completely darkness. He started towards the stairs when he suddenly began to feel dizzy and weak. His feet seemed to weigh a stone apiece. 

The room rocked and started to turn. He fell to his knees. What kind of sorcery was this? He hadn't had that much to drink nor had the glass cut him enough for him to have lost that much blood. He tried to call out but found he could not even speak. 

He looked out into the room, trying to focus and gain his bearings… but then he saw… eyes. A pair there… and then there… looking out from the darkness. 

But they weren't mice… no, too big for mice. Rats… no still not… giant rats… he had heard that with the blight… and there were four, five… six, seven, eight… ten… twelve… pairs of eyes. 

With a great deal of effort, he turned to look to the other side of the room… there were at least another dozen there. Giant rats could be dangerous in mass but… if… if they were blight rats… Maker! He had to get out of here! 

He forced himself to his feet and managed a step before collapsing to the floor. He couldn't move. He couldn't scream. He couldn't even close his eyes. 

He watched as the light from the lantern flared brighter… watched as it was reflected in the dozens and dozens of eyes that surrounded him. He watched as they got closer and closer, drawn by the smell of wine and blood, and then… 

…the lantern went out. 

83.7 Epilogue 

Anora was found dead in the tower soon after the end of the blight. There was no sign of foul play. However many believe that the former queen took her own life instead of being executed in a public spectacle. 

Fergus Cousland arrived in Denerim and was reunited with his sister just before the coronation. Kathryn gladly relinquished her claim to Highever. A few years later, Fergus met a young woman of means named Kaitlyn from Redcliffe, the two fell in love and were married soon after. They have two children. 

Before leaving Denerim to return to Hunter's Fell, Bann Gilmore relinquished the title of bann in favor of Roland and married his long time housekeeper. Bann Gilmore and his wife Helena had four children and became well respected members of the Landsmeet and one of the king's most ardent supporters. 

Eamon abdicated the title of Arl of Redcliffe in favor of his brother Tegan and was soon afterwards named Arl of Denerim after Vaughn died in a freak accident. 

Bella started a brewery in Denerim and met Teagan at a court function. The two were soon married and eventually had two children. 

Mhairi became the captain of the Silver Order of the Griffon, the name taken by those that fight alongside the Grey Wardens in Ferelden. She never took the joining but was given a Warden's Oath by the Warden Commander for her exemplary service to the order. 

Jowan… um… 'Levyn' appeared soon after the coronation and took over the running of the hospital which became a permanent institution in Denerim. It turned no one away, human, elf, dwarf, qunari or mabari and became famous for its research into new healing techniques, potions and spells. 

Lily was assigned to work at the new Denerim hospital and studied to become a midwife. 

Drake was able to walk to the dock to see Sten's ship off. He carried with him the stick Sten had thrown countless times for him to fetch and placed it next to Sten's pack. Sten then cut a braid of his hair and attached it to Drake's collar. He said his good-byes to all and left for home. 

Zevran expanded his role to include spy-master, devoting himself to keeping the king and queen safe from any and all threats. While his identity and in truth his very existence was officially denied, rumor and legend grew around him. 

Oghren was offered a position in the human army but realized that fighting darkspawn was his true calling and so joined the Silver Order. Soon after, he and Felsi married and had a son. 

Sigrun also joined the Silver Order but always stayed close to Denerim and Zevran. 

Alistair became as well respected by the nobility of Thedas as he was well loved by the people of Ferelden. As the country recovered from the Blight, it became more prosperous and powerful than it ever had. 

Kathryn was content as Warden-Commander to leave much of the fighting the remaining darkspawn to others. Some said that she never truly recovered completely from killing the archdemon, others wondered how she had survived at all, still others figured that the months of stress and fighting had taken its toll. But those closest were inclined to think that she simply had nothing more to prove, neither to others or herself. She had achieved her life's purpose and was content to direct the recovery of the country and to assist Alistair in ruling it. 

However as the years passed, Kathryn was less inclined to accept the death sentence for herself and Alistair that being a warden entailed. With a heavy but hopeful heart she left her king to search for a cure. The time apart was hard for both of them, but in the end her search proved successful. She returned and within a year, the country celebrated the birth of a princess, Moria. A few years later, the country again rejoiced at the birth of a prince, Duncan. 

It was said they never again left each other's side. 

And they all lived happily ever after… at least as well as anyone does. For there was always danger and strife, but there was also triumph and joy for such are the lives of heroes and kings, but those are tales for another time... 

THE END 

Chapter 84: Epilogue Part II 

84.1 Alistair 

Alistair walked out into the palace garden. It was nearly twice as big at it had been when he had first seen it so many years ago. He had ordered it expanded and improved. It was one of this favorite places in the palace. 

"Father!" he heard his daughter call out. He turned in time to see her running towards him. She jumped into his open arms. "We've been killing dragons!" She said. 

"Really, I wasn't aware there were any dragons in the gardens." He said. 

"Well, not real dragons." Moria admitted. "Pretend dragons." 

"Oh, well, that's all right then." He said. "You had me worried for a moment." 

"But didn't you and Mother kill a dragon?" She asked. 

"Yes, but that was a long time ago and I'm a bit out of practice." He said 

"Father!" He heard his son call as he ran full speed into Alistair's legs. Alistair was caught unprepared and was nearly knocked over. "I… killed… a dragon!" Duncan said breathless. 

"You did! That was very brave of you." Alistair said. 

"Father!" Moria said. "You could pretend to be a dragon." 

"Hmmm… I'm not sure I know how." Alistair said as he set her down. 

"You make a face like this and roar." She said, and then proceeded to demonstrate. "Rrrroooooaaaarrrrrrr!" 

"That's pretty good." Alistair said. 

"I can too!" Duncan said. "Rrrrrrrooooooooooaaarrrrrr!" 

"Yes, very scary." He said. "But now that I think about it, I do recall one surefire way to defeat a dragon and it even works on little children who are pretending to be dragons." 

"How?" Moria asked. 

"By using the dreaded and powerful… tickle attack!" Alistair said as he began to tickle both his children who laughing fell to the ground around him. 

As they got their breath, Moria whispered to her brother loud enough for Alistair to hear. "Let's tickle, Father." Duncan nodded as they got set and then rushed him. He rolled over on the grass as they crawled on top of him. 

"My, my…" He heard Kathryn say. "What a racket! You'd think the garden had been invaded by a pack of howling monkeys!" 

The three stopped and then looked at each other. Without a word, they rushed Kathryn, pulling her to the ground and tickling her till she could barely breathe. 

Soon, they all could do little more than lie on the ground happily gasping for air. "You know," Kathryn said finally catching her breath. "If you ask nicely, your father might tell us a story." 

"A story! A story! Please, Father." Moria said. "Tell us about the archdemon." 

"No, the ogre." Duncan said and then mimicked an ogre stomping. 

"Why don't I tell you my favorite story." Alistair said. Kathryn sat next to him laying her head on his shoulder as Moria and Duncan crawled into their laps. 

He wrapped his arms around his family. It was these small moments, when he wondered how it was even possible to be so happy. 

He gently kissed Kathryn on her forehead. Then, he turned to the expectant faces of their children and began. 

"Once upon a time…"


End file.
